


Porcelain Angel

by arkflikka



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:31:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkflikka/pseuds/arkflikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if New York hadn't worked out the way Justin had hoped?</p><p>May be triggering. So be warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Justin POV**

I was sitting in my sagged sofa wonder if I will ever have the strength to paint again, and  
have the luck to get it sold, so I could pay the heating in my apartment, so that I wouldn’t  
have to be freezing all the time, when the phone brought me back to reality with its  
annoying sound. I forced my rigid, ice-cold limbs to move. When I saw the familiar number  
on the display I was shocked and held the phone in my hand, just staring at it, not knowing  
what to do. It wasn’t before the call went to voicemail that I realized that I should have answered.  
Was I supposed to call back? I didn’t know, I was too tired. Too tired to think, too tired to even bother.  
Almost too tired to force myself into bed.  
  
 **Brian POV**

I cursed and felt like throwing the phone across the room. I had had this nagging, uneasy feeling  
of panic in my gut ever since I had seen him in the Matthew Marks Gallery a few weeks ago. The  
confident, brave young man that used to radiate positive energy and courage were gone. I knew  
that something was wrong. Why couldn’t that little twat just pick up the god damn phone? Maybe  
he’s just sleeping, my un-caring, asshole side say. Yes, he may be sleeping but something was still  
very wrong. I tried calling him again and again after what felt like millions ring-tones I gave up. I got  
to bed, trying to fall asleep, without success, all thoughts of Justin making it impossible. I lay wide awake  
in the bed, not even bother to crawl down under the duvet, just letting my thoughts wander.

**Justin POV**

Waking up covered in cold-sweat and chipping for air isn’t my favorite wake-up call. Especially not alone,  
in the middle of the night in an unknown town. I tried my best to push the thoughts away, of course without  
success. The only thing that could calm me down in this kind of situation was 370 miles away. Brian. 370 miles  
away or a phone-call. My body was shaking violently and I realized that getting to my cell phone was at the  
moment just imaginary, but I had to try anyway. I managed to take one deep breath before I got on my feet at  
and started my way over to the phone. Finally there I speed-dialed Brian, it went straight to voice-mail. Not giving  
it another thought I called the loft, no answer, I hang up and called up again.

**Brian POV**

It was first when I woke up by the phone that I realized I had fallen asleep. But before I could reach the phone it  
had stopped ringing. Somehow I knew that it was Justin who had called. I called back, hoping that he would pick up.  
To my relief I soon heard his voice.  
“I… I ca… can’t… bre…ath…”  
Another panic attack, he hadn’t had one for years, at least not that I knew of.  
“Justin. Justin listen to me, okay? Are you listening?”  
“Y…yes.”  
“Breathe with me. Push the air out.”  
I listened to Justin exhaling.  
“Good. Now close your mouth and pause for one, two, three and exhale through your mouth.”  
I paused again and listened to how Justin followed my instructions.  
“Close your mouth and breath in deep through your nose. Hold one, two, three. Exhale slowly through  
your mouth. Deep breath through your nose, one, two, three, exhale slowly through your mouth. Good boy.  
Keep going. Inhale. One, two, three. Exhale. Deep breath, one, two, three, slow exhale. You’re doing good,  
Sunshine, one more. Deep breath, hold, one, two, three, exhale.”  
I heard how he continued the breathing exercise without me telling him what to do. He was going to be okay.  
  
“Better now?”  
I asked after a while.  
“Yes, thank you, Brian.”  
“Anytime, Sunshine.”  
“Did I wake you?”  
“Actually yeah, but don’t worry, I missed talking to you.”  
“Me too.”  
He stifled a yawn and I realized it was in the middle of the night.  
“Justin, go get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow or whenever either of us is busy. Good night, Sunshine.”  
“Talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Brian.”  
We hang up and I returned to bed, hoping to fall asleep. But my worry for Justin troubled me and kept me awake.

**Justin POV**

As soon as we hang up I felt the familiar loneliness close in on me and again I found it hard to breathe. _"Pull yourself together,_  
 _goddammit."_ I said to myself. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, not with the pressure of loneliness and anxiety  
expanding in my chest and the remains of the nightmare still to vivid. So I decided to go for a run. Get back in control. I felt  
the ground fly away under my feet. I felt free and in control. After a while the dizziness came over me, I ignored it and kept  
on running. The pressure of anxiety and loneliness slowly faded to a bearable level, and I felt the remains of the nightmare  
became a lot less vivid. All this from just running, flying over the ground, feeling light as air. Back in my apartment my legs  
gave up and I collapsed on the floor after closing the door. Breathing heavily, feeling extremely lightheaded, having a faint  
taste of copper in my mouth I couldn’t help but wonder: Was it worth it? Absolutely. I leant my head against the door, wishing  
I was back in the loft, in Brian’s embrace.

**Brian POV**

When the alarm went off in the morning I still hadn’t fallen asleep. _“This will be a looong day.”_ I thought as I dragged myself out  
of bed. I really needed a cup of coffee, or more like a pot of coffee. Something to make the pounding in my head go away. If Justin  
had been here he would have given me an amazing blowjob and the pounding in my head would have been only a bad memory.  
But Justin was in New York. After several cups of coffee I realized the pounding wouldn’t subside before my meeting with Magnum  
Enterprises. I sighed and finished dressing. I thought about calling Justin on my way to the office, but decided against it, knowing  
I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about him then and I needed to have all my focus on getting the account. Mr. Meyer was an  
overweight, middle-aged guy with a receding hairline who not only should go to a gym, but really needed to take a shower. This  
didn’t exactly do anything to improve my mood. When he had talked about how they wanted a new campaign for some greasy,  
disgusting food I knew I would never in my life poison my body with for what felt like an eternity I lost my patience and asked  
Cynthia, as nicely as I could if she and Ted could handle the rest of the meeting alone. She must have felt my bad mood so she  
just nodded and I rose from my seat and excused myself before leaving the room. The damn headache wouldn’t subside and  
all I wanted to do was feel Justin’s warm arms embrace me, his long artistic fingers massage my scalp. I missed my Justin.

**Justin POV**

When the sun started to rise outside I was still in the same position. Thinking, my brain was on overload but suddenly I had  
that great, fabulous idea to a painting. I knew that it wouldn’t leave my brain before I had put it on a canvas. I rose from the  
floor and went over the corner of my apartment that was my “studio”. I started painting; the brush flew over the empty canvas  
‘til it was covered in different shades of color. I painted and painted ‘til I felt my hand cramp up. I cursed under my breath, doing  
my best to ignore it. And I succeed ‘til I felt a searing pain shoot through my fingers, up my arm and my hand cramped up to a  
claw. I tried to straighten my fingers, but the pain got worse and soon it sent searing cramps up my arm every few seconds. I fought  
back the panic-attack I felt building up in my chest. Fuck. I couldn’t do anything. I felt like a complete failure. Brian, where are you  
when I need you? But I didn’t deserve him. He deserved someone good.

**Brian POV**

The first thing I did when I got home was calling Justin. He answered after the fourth ring and he sounded worse than I felt. Damn.  
I wasn’t the one who usually talked about feelings, but I was really worried about him.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah, Brian. I’m fine. Did you want something special? I really have to get back to work.”  
What the..? This wasn’t the Justin I knew. He’d never had any problems with stop working to talk to me, or blow me or whatever.  
The Justin I knew never turned down an opportunity to be with me. Kind of egoistic, I know, but still true.  
“No. I just… Don’t let me disturb you. Call me when you’re finished okay?”  
“Yeah, whatever. Bye Brian.”  
Before I had the chance to respond I heard the click that meant that he had hung up. Fuck. Something was wrong. He sounded  
so distant, not like the Sunshine I knew and, even though I rarely said it, loved. Maybe it was time to pay New York a visit.

**Justin POV**

I hated to lie to Brian. Well I wasn’t lying, not really. I was in control, so I was fine. But to say that I had to get back to work, that was  
a lie considering I only sat on the sofa and staring at noting. I regretted hanging up, I loved hearing his voice; it soothed me, even  
though I didn’t deserve him. I was deep in my own thoughts when my cell interrupted me. It was Ash.  
“Justin, you have to come down to the studio.”  
“Why?”  
“There’s a gallery owner here, a Mr. Smith and he wants to have a show with your paintings. Your own show.”  
“You’re serious?”  
“Do you really think that I would joke about that? Yes I’m serious. And he wants to talk to you. So bring your portfolio and get your  
ass down here, now.”  
“Oh my god, Ash! I can’t believe it.”  
“Stop talking and get down here!”  
“Okay, okay. God, oh god!”  
I hang up, try to collect my thoughts. This was what I had wanted. This is why I had come to New York in the first place.  
I also knew that one solo-show didn’t mean I wouldn’t be a big, fat fucking success in the art world; it was going to take more than that.  
But it was a start. I had to tell Brian. He would be… proud. Or at least I wanted him to be proud of me for accomplish something.  
I wanted it so bad.

**Brian POV**

When I got a text from Justin twenty minutes later I was surprised, but happy. “I got my own show.” Finally. Finally had the art world  
realized that Justin was brilliant. I was so happy that I first didn’t know what to answer. The feeling that swelled in my chest wasn’t  
something I felt very often, and those few times it had happened it had had to do with Justin or Gus. I was so proud of him. So fucking  
proud. So that’s what I ended up writing for an answer. “I’m so proud of you, Justin.” Before I could put my phone down it started ringing.  
I silently hoped it was Justin. It wasn’t. It was Michael. He probably just wanted me to go with him to Babylon. The truth was that I hadn’t  
been to Babylon a lot lately, maybe 2 or 3 times in the seven months since Justin left. It didn’t appeal to me anymore; maybe I had finally  
grown up. Well I knew I had, I fucking asked Justin to marry me, for god sake.  
“Hi, Mikey. And before you ask me to go to Babylon with you tonight. I’m not going.”  
“It’s Ben. He’s in the hospital…”  
It sounded like he was on the verge to tears.  
“Can you… can you come down? I n… need… I need you.”  
“Where are you? I’m on my way.”  
“The ICU. Thanks Brian.”

I made my way down to Allegheny General and up to the ICU. The white walls, the smell of death and antiseptic gel, the crying relatives  
filled my head with memories I would like to forget, erase. The bashing, sitting catatonic in an uncomfortable plastic chair for three days,  
not knowing if my reasons for breathing was still alive or not, the sound of a baseball bat hitting skull, the picture of him falling to the  
concrete floor, lifeless, pictures of crimson blood soaking through white silk. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. I couldn’t  
break down now, not here, not with all these people around. I was here to be there for Michael, not dwelling on these memories. I found  
him sitting on one of those white uncomfortable chairs Hunter standing beside him. Hunter looked like he was holding it up quite well;  
Michael on the other hand looked like he was in decay. Hunter looked up and saw me.  
“Thank god you’re here.”  
Hunter said before he went out of the ICU. I sunk to my knees in front of Michael and looked up in his red brimmed eyes.  
“How is he?” I asked and put my hand on his thigh.  
“The… they… they… think… it’s… th… the… li…liv…liver…” He sobbed.

**Justin POV**

_“It had sounded like it was a done deal. That I had my own show. But then why would this guy wanted to talk to me? What if I didn’t_   
_get the show? What if the guy would be disappointed in me and not like me at all? What if he only liked my painting? Or maybe he_   
_didn’t even like them? They wasn’t that good, where they? Maybe he thought it was pure crap? And if I didn’t get this show everyone_   
_would be disappointed in me. I would be disappointed with myself, I knew that Ash, my mother and… Brian would be deeply_   
_disappointed with me…”_

I was interrupted in my condescending thoughts by a little boy who pulled in the sleeve of my shirt. The boy  
looked to be around Gus’ age and looked at me with deep brown eyes and an adorable smile.  
“You want a cookie?” he asked.  
 _“No, I didn’t want a cookie. I wasn’t about to lose the control I had fought so hard to achieve by eating a cookie.”_  
Before I had a chance to respond the boy continued talking.  
“You don’t want it? I made it myself. It’s chocolate. That is my favorite.”  
Those deep brown eyes looked so sad. I couldn’t help it; I just nodded my head and held out my hand. The boy placed the cookie in  
my palm before looking on me.  
“My name is Aaron. What’s your name?”  
“I’m Justin.”  
I couldn’t stop the smile that crept across my face.  
“I’m five years old. How old are you? Where are you going? Are you gonna eat the cookie? My mom helped me put them in oven, cause  
it’s too hot. But next time I put them in oven myself. I’m big boy.”  
“You sure can talk fast, little guy…”  
“I’m not little guy, I’m big boy.”  
“You sure can talk fast, big boy. I’m 22. I’m going to my work.”  
I said and took a bite of the cookie. It was good, and before I could think another thought I had finished the cookie and wiped the crumbs  
away with the back of my hand.  
“Was it good?” The boy asked.  
“It was.” I said, smiling at the boy who shone with pride and happiness.  
Suddenly the bus came to a stop and a woman came and took Aaron’s hand.  
“Aaron, come on.” She said and pulled the boy towards the door.  
“Bye Justin.” He called and waved.  
“Bye Aaron.” I answered and waved back.

Soon enough I felt the familiar anxiety closing in on me. I tried to take long, deep breaths. _“Wasn’t the bus at the studio soon? I need air._  
 _Can’t breathe… can’t breathe.”_ The bus finally came to a stop and I was relieved to see it was my stop. I hurried of the bus and inside the  
studio. I needed to get it out, get back in control. And I needed it now. I raced into one of the toilets, sank down on my knees. This wasn’t  
the first time, so I knew how it worked and what happened. Sticking my fingers down my throat, I waved my fingers on the soft palate which  
made me retch. I felt my nails scratch my throat when I went further down. A couple of minutes later the chocolate cookie was disposed into  
the porcelain bowl. I felt like it was easier to breath. But suddenly a voice interrupted my peace.  
“Justin?”  
“mhm…”  
“You okay?!”  
“Mhm… I got really nauseas on the bus. It’s just motion sickness. I’ll be out in a minute.”  
I felt how the anxiety faded as I flushed the toilet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Brian POV**

After blood samples, urine samples, ultrasounds and a liver biopsy the doctors came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the liver, it was gastritis.  
And after antacids, pain reliefs and nausea medicine Ben was asleep. Michael was still crying and refused my proposition to get something to  
eat from the cafeteria.   
“Michael, Ben is going to be okay. You heard the doctors. He just needs to rest and take the antacids.”  
“But it was his HIV-meds that caused this, Brian!”  
“I know that. But still, he is going to be okay. They will change his meds, try a different one.”  
“But what if the same thing happens again or worse?!”

All Michael’s frustration, tears and fear had turned into anger.   
“Fuck!” He cursed and kicked the nearby wall with his foot.   
“Michael. Mikey.”   
There was no point in trying to get through to him, Michael wasn’t listening. After a while I lost my patience and asked a nurse for a sleeping pill,  
she gave it to me after I had explained the situation. I pressed the pill and a glass of water into Michael’s hands and said:   
“Take the pill. It will help you relax.”  
“I can’t relax…”  
“I know, that’s why I got you the pill. You need some rest so you can be strong for Ben.”  
Finally it seemed that my words got through to him. That was the catch, Ben. He took the pill but refused to lie in the bed the nurse offered him.  
Half an hour later he was fast asleep, head leaning against my shoulder and snoring softly. He had been asleep almost an hour when the doctor approached us.  
“Are you here for Ben Bruckner?” He asked in a low voice.  
“Yeah.”  
Knowing the doctor wouldn’t reveal any information if he wasn’t related to Ben. So I quickly added.  
“I’m his brother.”  
“Okay Mr. Bruckner…”  
“Kinney actually.”  
“Okay Mr. Kinney. Your brother’s gastritis was not caused by his HIV-meds, like we first expected. It was brought on by stress. Has he been under stress lately?”  
“Not that I know. You will have to ask his husband for that information.” I said and nodded at Michael.  
“Could you please wake him up?”  
“He’s exhausted and has only been asleep for an hour. He needs his rest. Can’t you talk to him when he wakes up?”  
“To set the correct diagnosis and to give your brother the right treatment we need to have this information as soon as possible.”  
“Fine, I’ll wake him up. Michael? Michael, you have to wake up. The doctor wants to talk to you.”  
“What? The doctor? Is Ben okay?”  
“Michael, just listen to the doctor, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Michael turned his gaze to the doctor and the doctor explained the situation and then asked if Ben had been under a lot of stress lately.  
“Yeah, he’s been really stressed about his lectures and classes and the whole thing with getting his newest book published and promoted. And our son, Hunter  
has been having some problems at school, so yes Ben has been really stressed. So you’re saying that it’s not his HIV-meds that caused this?”  
“That’s true, it’s not his HIV-meds, it’s stress.”  
Michael sighed in relief and thanked the doctor before turning to me.  
“You heard that, Brian. That’s great.”  
“Yes, it’s a good thing, but he really needs to keep his stress levels down or he will wound up here again.” The doctor explained.  
After the doctor left a nurse came out from Ben’s room and told them that he had woken up and that they could go in and see him.  
  
 **Justin POV**

They wanted 20 paintings. 20 new, big paintings in 2 months. Without inspiration. Great. Fucking great. I wanted to call Brian. I really wanted to call Brian. Just to  
hear his voice, that voice that make all my problems disappear. I wanted to call Brian and hear his beautiful voice, but I can’t, I’m not worth him. I run home, not  
wanting to risk having to eat another cookie. I shuddered at the mere thought of eating. Suddenly I felt a pang of hunger that almost had me doubled over in pain.  
I had to do something about the hunger. But I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t lose control. In that moment I actually thought that there was a higher power, because when I looked up I saw some commercial add about diet pills. The words that got stuck in my head was reduces hunger. Instead of continue to walk home I changed direction and headed to the nearest pharmacy. I was intently reading on a bottle of Phentramin-d when I was interrupted.   
“Those pills are awesome.”  
I turned around and came face to face with a guy who looked to be around my age. With protruding cheekbones and a skin with a color close to transparent he looked rather scary, but still beautiful. Maybe this guy could help me keep in control.  
“I’m Luke, btw.”  
“Justin.” I said looking back to the bottle in my hand.  
It was quiet for a couple of minutes, and first I thought that he had walked away, but when I looked up from the bottle he was still there.  
“Are they as good as it says on the bottle?” I asked.  
“Better. When you have tried it, you never wanna stop. It’s this amazing feeling. It takes away the hunger pangs, it increases your metabolism and it gives you energy. It’s the ultimate pill. I should buy it if I were you. You won’t regret it, promise.”  
We both bought a bottle of the miracle pill and walked out of the pharmacy together. He jotted down something on the back of his recite and gave it to me.  
“Your number?”  
“Yeah, just in case you lose sight of your goal, I’m here.”  
“What?!”  
“You want control, don’t you?”  
Woah, had this stranger just read my mind, or what? I nodded, dumbfounded.  
“I thought so.” He said.  
Silence. I have to hide my feelings better. I can’t wear them on my sleeve.  
“You’re getting there.”  
He said and stroked his index finger over one of my cheek bones. A strange feeling of pride filled me and I couldn’t help but smile. A voice in my head I had never heard before praised me; it felt good, really good.   
“And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I can help you.”  
I smiled at him, not really knowing what to do. He must have sensed my state of mind because he said.  
“I’ll see you around? Call me if you need me.”  
I nodded and we said good bye, walking away in different directions.

**Brian POV**

When I got home I collapsed on the bed. It was exhausting to be at the hospital. All the bad memories refused to leave my head. The bashing. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep. No such luck. With my eyes closed and the memories whirling around in my head I could almost hear the bat connecting with skull, a smell of coppery blood filled my nostrils, the feeling of silk matted with blood against my skin, I quickly opened my eyes, taking a deep breath. I had to hear his voice, just to make sure he was still alive. When I heard the tenth signal, I gave up and disconnected the call. Worry washed over me. Where was he? Was he okay? My logical side told me that he maybe just was out, had forgotten his cell in his apartment, was asleep or painting. I didn’t listen to my logical side and let the worry sweep through me. When I had called him again, three times, without an answer and the clock was near midnight I was going crazy with worry and almost booked a ticket to New York. I call him one last time, and if he doesn’t answer this time I’m going there. After four signals he picked up.  
“Hi.”  
“Where have you been? I have called you like six times…”  
“Four, not counting this one. And I have been out with Ash and when I got home I took a shower.”  
It was a pause and footsteps could be heard.  
“So now I’m all nice and clean for you…”  
Oh, I knew this voice. This was horny Justin. Just listening to his low, seductive voice made me hard and before I knew it we both had climaxed. In the middle of my dazed post-orgasm state I heard quiet sobbing. 

**Justin POV**

I hadn’t been out with Ash. I hadn’t showered either. The only thing I had done was sitting at the sofa and staring on bottle of diet pills, reading the text over and over again. I hadn’t climaxed, I faked it. It was hard to lie, but I knew it had to be done. Something inside me broke when I heard Brian’s breathe hitch and I knew he had come. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. I had let Brian down. Why hadn’t I just told him the truth? He fucking deserved the truth! Or maybe it was better this way, when he didn’t know what a failure I was. Sure I had my own show. Second time I had my painting in a show, hurray for Sunshine! Brian didn’t need to know, he deserved better than me. I quickly hung up before he could ask me something or say something that made me change my mind. And if he called back, I wouldn’t answer, because he deserved better than me and I couldn’t hurt him or let him down, not again. The phone rang countless times before I turned it off. With the phone turned off the apartment was left in complete silence. _Your worthless piece of shit! You’re fat! You’re ugly!_ The words rung in my ears and I closed my eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. I hated silence. I used to treasure it, silence used to give me some time alone to think. I hated thinking, I didn’t want to think. I saw the pills I had put on the kitchen table when I answered the phone and made a decision. I turned my phone on, quickly dialed a number I had never dialed before, still it felt like I had done it a thousand times before. It felt right, it felt safe.   
“It’s Luke.”   
And I wasn’t alone anymore.

**Luke POV**

I knew he would call me. I was prepared to wait for days, but obviously I didn’t need to such thing.   
“Please help me.”  
His voice was desperate. He definitely needed my help.  
“Your place or mine?”  
“Yours.”  
I rambled my address and I heard him scribbling it down on a piece of paper.  
“Press 422 on the intercom and I’ll let you in.”  
“Bye, and thanks Luke, for being here.”  
“It’s my pleasure, Justin. Just get here and I’ll help you.”  
It took almost an hour before the intercom beeped. I let him in and a few minutes later he was seated on my couch.

“Tried the pills yet?”  
He shook his head.  
“You should. They will help you.”  
I crossed my arms over my chest, still getting that amazing feeling when my ribs poked into my arms, almost to the point of hurting. I looked at the words I had carved onto the inside of my wrist. ‘ _Don’t eat_ ’. I stroked my fingers over the words and smiled to myself. Justin must have seen it because seconds later he asked:   
“What’s that?”  
“Motivation.”  
“Like when the temptation is big or something?”  
“Exactly, all I need to do is to look at them and I get on the right track again.”  
“It’s a really good idea. Did it hurt when you did it?”  
“Yeah, it was, but I can’t take credit for the idea, since it wasn’t mine. And carving on your wrist hurt pretty much, yeah. But it felt good, like I deserved it for not following my diet.”  
“You’ve been doing this for…”  
“Six years now. Next week actually. It started when I was 14.”

I covered my face with my hands, wanting to hide the fact that my eyes were watering at the mere thought of talking about it.   
“You okay, Luke?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”   
I cleared my throat and continued telling him my story. It didn’t really bother me that I was telling this to a total stranger. But even though we just had met this afternoon it felt as if we had been friends for a really long time.   
“My dad died when I was eight, car accident. I was home from school that day, lying sick with the flu. I asked him if he could get me some ice-cream, we didn’t have any at home so he went to get me some from the store. I feel asleep and an hour later my mom and I were both waken up by the phone. It was the hospital calling to inform us that my dad had been in a car accident. I remember my mom asking how he was and her expression when the nurse told her he was brain-dead and on life support. He was hit by a drunk driver on his way home from the store…”  
I covered my face with my hands again.   
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”  
Justin laid his arm around my shoulders, unconsciously giving me the comfort I needed to continue.   
“I was confused at first, not really understanding that my dad wasn’t coming back, I kept asking my mum when he would come with my ice-cream. I didn’t even get that he was gone when I was standing beside my mum watching him being buried in the ground.”  
I paused and took a deep breath.   
“It took me two years to fully grip that my dad wasn’t going to come back. I was ten when I fully understood that my dad was dead. That’s when it hit me, it was my fault my dad was dead. If he hadn’t been out getting ice-cream for me, his stupid kid he would still be alive. When I told my mum that I had killed my dad, she only cried and nodded. She too blamed me for his death.”  
“That’s horrible.”  
“But true, it was my fault. And don’t try telling me that it wasn’t my fault, because it’s pointless. Anyhow, when I was eleven my mum re-married, to a real douche and she wanted me to call him dad, I refused. My dad was dead and I wasn’t about to replace him. The guilt over my dad’s death combined with the pure hatred from my mum’s new husband I took a razor to my arms…”  
I shoved up my sleeves up all the way up to my elbows, reveling forearms covered with thin, white scars. I heard him gasp. I knew it looked quite macabre.  
“I know they’re not beautiful and I’m not proud of them, but they’re a part of me.”  
Suddenly I felt him lightly stroking his fingers over the scars. It sent shivers through out my whole body and I quickly pulled my arms back and pulled the sleeves down. I took a deep breath and continued.  
“Anyway, I continued doing it, to release the pain and unwanted feelings. One day John, mums new husband, walked in on me doing it and when he saw what I was doing he yelled: ‘you weak, pathetic faggot’ then walked out of the room. I was done, finished. I didn’t want it anymore. I cut too deep, slashed a vein. Unfornatly my mum found me and brought me to the hospital. After I had physically recovered from my suicide-attempt I was sent to a psychward for kids and teenagers. I continued to cut, not deep enough to off myself just deep enough to release the pain. Of course the nurses found out and since then I haven’t cut. Somehow I’m relieved they found out because I was on the edge of breaking and it was only a matter of time before I cut myself too deep.”  
I paused my monologue to look at him. He had tears in his eyes and it looked like he wanted to hug me.   
“You okay?” I asked.  
“Yeah, it’s just… I don’t know… this is gonna sound really weird, but I care about you.”  
“Maybe it’s weird, but I care about you too. In fact you’re the only person I have ever told this. I care about you and that’s why I want to help you.”  
“Again thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was going to break down and I don’t know, it kind of felt like I was going to die.”  
“Tell me what happened. And it probably was a panic-attack or something that made you feel like that.”  
He was quiet for a while before he started talking.  
“My boyfriend called and I know he’s worried about me, he doesn’t have to, I’m fine, as long as I have control, you know. And I didn’t want him to pry and ask a lot of questions so I… I got him started on having phone-sex. I didn’t feel like it at all and faked all the way through.”  
He grew quiet, probably not knowing how to continue. Maybe he thought I was going to flip out about him having a boyfriend. I wasn’t.  
“If you think I’m going to flip about you having a boyfriend think again. I’m fine with it, I’m bi myself so. So gay-phone-sex doesn’t bother me.”  
“Okay, yeah well he came and I faked it and then it was like something inside me just broke and I started to cry. I panicked and hung up. And then I called you.”  
“You know you can always call me.”  
“How do I keep in control? How do I handle everything?”  
“A good way to keep in control is to take the pills. Another good thing is to train, the most effective is to train until your body gives up and you collapse…”  
“Isn’t that dangerous?”  
“Do you want control or not?”  
“I do, it’s just…”  
“Just what? You have to really, really want it, otherwise you will fail and you don’t want that do you?”  
“I want control, I really do. Please tell me more.”

**Justin POV**

Two months later I had lost another 45lb, apart from the 10lb I had already lost before I met Luke, and now I was down to 94.8lb. I knew Luke was lighter than me and I strived to get even thinner. I don’t know when it happened or why, but one day I had a voice in my head that was telling me to get thinner, that I was too fat, that I was worthless. I asked Luke about it and if he had the same, he said that you had to become friends with the voice, and then it would help you to keep in control. I guess that I also got the picture that being skinny was the key to success. At least for an artist, and when I thought about it I hadn’t seen any successful artist that was fat. And I wasn’t successful, so that had to mean that I was fat, simple as that. It didn’t took me long to become friends with the voice. Ana, that’s what I called the voice, and I talked daily, it was there as an almost constant reminder to not lose control. Gain control, lose weight. It had become my new mantra. I looked through my closet again, in hope of finding something that would hide my new body from Brian. It wasn’t because I wasn’t proud of how my bones stood out, I was, I just knew that Brian wouldn’t understand and think that something was wrong. Brian had said he would be at the show, being my first solo-show and all, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up to high, just in case he didn’t show. Finally I decided on a pair of beige, baggy chinos and a striped, oversized white and navy-blue t-shirt with long sleeves. Hopefully it would do the trick. I didn’t even dare to think about what I would do if Brian ended up back at my place, expecting us to fuck. It’s not that I don’t love having sex with Brian, because God knows I do, it’s just I don’t want him touching me, feeling the masses of fat that still existed on my body. _Come up with a damn excuse, you freak. He won’t see you naked, much less touch you. Lie to him, make sure he doesn’t see or touch you without your clothes. He will be disgusted enough seeing you with your clothes on, so don’t expose him to more than that. You don’t want him seeing you this fat, right? He will hate you even more._

I shook my head, trying to get back to what I was doing. I finished dressing and headed to the gallery. I met up with Luke up front, I kind of needed his support to get through this night without lose the control I had built up. He enveloped me in a hug and whispered:  
“You will be okay, Justin” in my ear.  
I felt my whole body relax and it was like all the tension melted away.  
“How have you been?”  
“Pretty good. Lost 2lb since the last time. And you?”  
“Gained a pound.”  
His shoulders slumped and he looked truly miserable. I didn’t know what to say so I pulled him closer and just held him.  
“Had dinner with my collegues and wasn’t able to purge.”  
“We will go run tomorrow. It will be okay. You will lose it in no time.”  
He held me closer and said:  
“You’re a good friend, Justin.”  
“You too, Luke.” “Come on, lets get this show over with, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Brian was there. We only had a chance to share a few words before he had to catch a flight back to Pittsburgh. And I thanked God he didn’t seem to notice anything peculiar.

**3rd person POV**

But little did Justin know. Brian did notice. Brian wasn’t far from knowing Justin’s deepest secret. And little did he know what would happen the next day.

**Brian POV**

I didn’t like that guy that was around Justin the whole time through the show. He looked like a walking skeleton. And Justin looked skinnier then last time I saw him and that worried me. I don’t know what I thought of the paintings. Of course they were brilliant, but they were dark. Some of them were like being sucked into a deep, black hole with no way out and that scared me to the core. Especially one of them. It was big, the background mixed layers of metallic gray-blue and black, with streaks of dark red, on the left side of it was as if it was a hole, in dark blue and crimson streaks and all over the canvas was a uneven pattern and by looking at it felt as if you were, in fact, being sucked into a black hole. Was this what he was feeling? Was he really this miserable? Maybe it was time I stepped in and found out once and for all what was really going on. I had lied to him, about needing to catch a flight, I had driven here. I just couldn’t be in there any longer. I had to talk to Justin. I wasn’t going to leave New York until I had.


	3. Chapter 3

**Justin POV**

I hadn’t expected to see Brian’s vette parked in front of my building, especially since he told me he had to catch a flight. I was just about to unlock the door when I heard he got out of the car.

“Justin.”  
“Brian.” I answered, not really up to talking, I just wanted to get back to my apartment so I could take a pill. My skin started itching and I unconsciously scratched my arm.  
“Justin, I can see that something is wrong. Something is bothering you. And you have lost weight, a lot of weight. Talk to me. Let me help.”   
“I don’t have any problems.” I snapped.   
“Why can’t you see it? You’re so thin and your paintings are really raw, deep and emotional, in a dark, scary way. And the light in your eyes is gone, so something is wrong, seriously wrong.”  
“Brian, I’ve already told you. I don’t have any problem, aside from one and that’s you. Because right now I’m exhausted and would really like to get some sleep. So please just leave.”   
“I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”   
“Well, too bad. There’s nothing to talk about.”

He was about to start talking again, but I interrupted him. My skin itching worse than it had ever done before and I was carving the next pill. 

“Brian, just go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.”

I opened the door and went inside, not waiting for his response. When I got into my apartment I hurried to the kitchen counter, where I kept the pills. I swallowed one down with a glass of water and felt my whole body calm down. I slumped down on the sofa and thought about the show. It had gone well. 11 out of 20 painting had been sold the first night. Everybody had praised me, but the praise I liked most was the one that came from Ana. I hadn’t eaten anything apart from a couple of celery sticks and water in two weeks and it felt wonderful. Since the pills obviously didn’t take away all the hunger, just the worst hunger pangs, I was hungry almost all the time. But I liked hunger, not the burning, acidy feeling in my stomach but the feeling of control, of being weightless, of being perfect. My phone started ringing, and I knew it was Brian. I checked the display anyway, just to be 100%. It was Brian and I hurled the phone across the room. Unfortunately it didn’t break and continued ringing. I stood up, small, black spots dancing in front of my eyes, and made my way over to the phone on wobbly legs. I turned it off and dropped it on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa again.

**Brian POV**

I ran after Justin to the door, only to reach it when it was locked again. I sighed deeply and ran my hand through my hair. My gut twisted in panic and worry seeped through my veins, I swallowed thickly and went back to the vette. I drove back to the gallery, way too much over the speed limit, not giving the ticket I would get if they caught me a thought. When I reached the gallery I made my way inside, only having one goal, Justin’s agent, Ashley.  
“Brian, right?” She said when I found her.   
“Yeah. I need to talk to you.”

She must have seen the expression on my face, because she pointed to a door on the right.

“Lets go in there, so we can talk in private.” I nodded.  
“He’s been acting really strange. He’s distant…”  
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that as well. He wasn’t like this the first months we worked together.”   
“Could you like, keep an eye on him, and if anything happens, call me.”

I handed her my card when she nodded.

“I’m worried about him. He’s usually a positive, outgoing person, but now it’s like the light in his eyes has gone out.”  
“I’m worried as well. He’s lost a bit of weight as well, and that’s worries me too.”   
“A bit of weight? He’s lost a lot of weight! That’s not like him at all.”

I sighed deeply, just wanting to hold my Sunshine, never letting him go ever again. After having talked to Ashley for a while we said bye. I tried calling Justin again, but it went straight to voicemail. The worry wouldn’t subside and I finally gave in to it and drove back to his apartment, squishing the button on the intercom. Finally there was a soft click and then I heard his voice.

“Brian, please. Just go back to Pittsburgh, please.” He sounded weary and distant.  
“Justin, please. I know something is wrong, that something is bothering you and I just want to help you.”  
“Don’t make me say this again. Brian, go back to Pittsburgh and go on with your life. Please.”

We were both quiet for a while and if it hadn’t been for the sound of his breathing I would think that he was gone.

“I love you. Just please let me help you.”  
“I can’t, Brian.”

That was the last thing he said before the robot-voice from the intercom welcomed me to the building and I realized he had ended the conversation. The question I had hoped to getting answered was still gnawing in my mind, still unanswered.

I don’t know if it was luck or fate but out of nowhere an old lady was at my side, asking me if I wanted to get in. At first I couldn’t believe it. I barely remember nodding my head but soon enough I found myself in front of Justin’s door. I knocked, closed my eyes and held my breath, hoping that he would open the door. The door creaked open and he looked worse than an hour ago. I cursed myself for not trying to get in earlier, instead of driving back and forth to the gallery. His eyes were puffy, cheeks tear streaked, lips in thin line.

  
“Please let me in.”

He shrugged his shoulders, but didn’t close the door before he went back into the apartment.

**Justin POV**

Okay. Deep breaths. Brian was in my apartment.

_Yes, he is. Because you let him in, you dumb freak._ I shook my head, clearing my head.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice sounded more raw and harsh then I expected.   
“I want you to talk to me.” His voice was so soft, so sincere I had to blink a couple of times to keep the tears at bay. I didn’t want to embarrass myself more than I already had. “About?” I decided to play innocent, pretend to not know what he was talking about, when the truth was that I knew exactly what he was talking about.  
“You know goddamn well, Justin. I’m talking about how distant you are, how much you have change. About the fact that it’s obvious that you have been crying, and that you have lost a lot of weight. And I’m sorry if I care!”  
“I’ve been really stressed out about the show and getting all the paintings done in time, so I haven’t been able to eat as good as I should, but now the show is done and I can relax, eat better and come back to my usual self again.”  
“And you expect me to believe that?”  
“It’s the truth, so yes I do.”   
“Good, let me treat you to dinner then. As congratulation on the show.”

_Say and do whatever you need to, to make him believe that it’s only stress. Of course you will have to pay for it once he’s gone._

“Would are you in the mood for?” I asked him.  
“I will let you decide. So, what will it be?”

I search through my brain trying to come up with a good answer. That’s right, there was this Italian restaurant me and Luke used to pass when we were running.

“There is this Italian restaurant couple of blocks from here, Cipriani Downtown. Their pasta is soo good.”  
“Then it’s settled.”   
“I’m just going to change, be right back.”

_Leave it to you to choose the most carb-filled food there is on this planet. Hope you know what you will be doing afterwards._

I did know what I will be doing afterwards.

**Brian POV**

Italian food, pasta, yeah that was like the Justin I knew, but something was off. But what could I do? It wasn’t as if I could force him to talk if he didn’t want to. But again, maybe it was just stress. We arrived to Cipriani Downtown and the place looked really fancy, and that’s when it hit me, he was lying, because how in the world could he afford going to this place to eat?

“This is it?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as normal as possible.   
“Yes.”  
“Well then, lets go in.”

The place was almost empty, apart from a couple of waiters and an older couple.

“Ciao Justin, long time now, you have not been here.” A man in a dark colored suit greeted Justin.  
“Yeah, I know Antonio. Too much to do.” He shrugged.  
“But now I’m back.”  
“Si, si. And who’s this magnifico man?”  
“This is Brian, my boyfriend. Brian this is Antonio, a good friend of mine, spend my first months in New York working here.”

Oh, that explains things, at least a little bit. Maybe Justin got a discount or something.

**Justin POV**

He seems to be buying it. It’s not that I’m lying anyway. I did work here the first few months when I first got to New York. But probably Brian was suspicious about the fact that the food was quite expensive, the cheapest dish was 50 US dollar. But since I had been working, and doing quite a good job, Antonio gave me a good discount. We ate and talked, and I have to admit that the food was really good, despite the high calorie number. I kind of wished I didn’t have to purge it up later, but I had to.

_You’re disgusting abomination! How do you even dare to think about not purge that calorie-filled pasta?! It is poisoning your body. Purge it or lose control. What do you chose? Yeah, that’s what I thought! Ha, you’re so pathetic, thinking that you can win over me._

I was. It was entirely my fault. I was the one who had opened the door for Brian. I was the one that had let him in. I was the one that had agreed to go to dinner with him. It was my fault and my fault only. There wasn’t anyone else I could blame, it was only me. Before we said good bye he made me promise to eat better and take care of myself. And I promised him I would, at the same time a little part of me wanted to shout that what was coming out of my mouth was nothing but a lie. I wanted to shout that I needed him, needed him to help me. But I couldn’t, so I made a promise I knew I was going to break as soon as I got home. The itch in the back of my throat made me wonder how much time that had passed since I had eaten. I silently made a prayer it wasn’t too long for purging it all back up.

As soon as I got home I went into the bathroom. The pasta is like a huge lump inside me and I absolutely despise it, I can almost feel it clinging to the walls of my stomach. I sink down to my knees in front of the toilet and shove two of my fingers down my throat. I retched, but nothing is coming up. Feeling how the panic started to close in on me I shoved my fingers further down. I still just retched, but nothing. It wasn’t working and the panic had spread through my veins like a drug. I tried one more time, before slumping down on the floor. My phone slipped out of the pocket on my pants and landed on the floor with a soft thud. It made me remember Luke. He had to know how to get the food out. I picked the phone up with shaky hands and dialed Luke.

“Hi Justin.” Just hearing his voice made me feel a little calmer.  
“I can’t get it out. Help me. Please.” I was close to tears.   
“You ate?” I could hear both surprise and disappointment in his voice.  
“I had to. Brian… Brian took me to dinner.”  
“Oh. It’s good that’s you’re trying to get it out.”  
“But it doesn’t work. Please.” I felt a few tears roll down my cheeks.  
“What have you tried?”  
“Sticking fingers down my throat. I only retch, but nothing is coming up.”   
“How long since you ate?”  
“Don’t’ know, 45 minutes maybe.”   
“At least it’s not too late. Okay, try with drinking a few glasses of water. And don’t kneel, stand up and lean over the toilet, and when you have your fingers down your throat and you retch, try coughing and push hard on your stomach, it will help. And if you know what’s good, don’t stop the first time when its stop coming up food, then you drink more water, jump up and down or do some sit ups and go for it again and more food will come up. Try now, I’ll hold. Just in case you need more advice.”

I put my phone down on the sink and grabbed the glass with my toothbrush in it, put the toothbrush beside the phone and filled the glass. Three glasses of water later I leant over the toilet shoved my fingers down my throat, I retched and I tried coughing at the same time as I pushed hard on my stomach and finally I felt the pasta coming up. I coughed and spluttered for a few minutes. Then I drank three more glasses of water, jumped up and down a few time, feeling more food coming up. This time I only had to lean over and slightly push on my stomach to make more pasta splatter into the bowl. I could feel that there was more left inside of me, so I repeated it a couple of more times, drinking water, jumping and then let more of the disgusting, calorie-filled, half-digested food. When only saliva, slightly tinged with blood came up I picked up the phone again.

“Everything out?”   
“Think so. Just saliva, a bit red in color.”  
“Just do the water one more time and you should be done.”  
“Thank you, Luke. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”   
“I’m always here for you Justin. You know that. Just like you’re there for me. That reminds me, what time tomorrow? Go running, you haven’t forgotten have you?”  
“No, of course not. How about eight ó clock?”  
“Sounds fine to me.”  
“See you then. Bye Luke.”  
“Bye Justin.”

I drank more water, vomited again and then slumped to the floor, waiting for my stomach to stop clenching and unclenching. While I sat there I felt tears running down my cheeks, I don’t know why I cried, I felt empty and free. Perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

** 2 months later **

**Justin POV**

It wasn’t the first time I had passed out, but it was the first time I ended up in a hospital afterwards. Unfortunately Ash had been the one to find me; she freaked out and called an ambulance. So I ended up in a hospital-bed with an IV stuck in my arm. The constant dripping from the machine was utterly annoying and I could almost feel the liquid being pumped into my veins. It stung were the needle were each time I moved my arm, but somehow the pain was comforting, that I somehow needed it to ground myself and assure my mind and body that I was still alive. I saw Ash sitting in the corner, watching me intently.

“So how are you?” She asked, anger and fear obvious in her voice.   
”I’m fine.”  
“We both know that’s a lie, Justin. You passed out and you have been out since then and that was hours ago. So it would be lovely if you could stop lying to me and just tell me. So I’m going to ask you again and be honest. How are you?”   
”I AM FINE.”   
”Justin…”  
”I’m fine, I’m not lying, okay?”   
”I’m not saying I believe you, but I’m not going to bug you anymore. And I don’t want to see at the studio for the next week, you got that? You take a week of and rest.”  
“Fine.”

I was not going to rest for a week. Didn’t she know how much weight you put if you just rest? Not a chance that I was going to rest for a week.

 

**Ash POV**

I left Justin’s room, feeling helpless. There wasn’t anything I could really do, sure I could ban him from the studio, but aside from that it wasn’t a thing I could do. Oh, that’s right, Brian. I could call Brian, and Brian could do more to help Justin than I could. Said and done, I went outside and dialed Brian’s number for the first time, hoping he would pick up. I didn’t have to wait long, seconds later he picked up.

“Brian.”   
“Hey, it’s Ashley. Justin’s agent.”  
“What happened?” His voice was filled with panic.   
“He fainted. I’m at the hospital with him right now.”  
“I’m coming there.”  
“Brian, wait. He doesn’t know that I’ve called you. The doctors are going to let him go as soon as the IV is done, since he fainted from exhaustion and dehydration, there isn’t more they can do for him at the hospital.”  
“I’m going to go to his apartment, I have a key and I pretend this is a surprise visit. He doesn’t need to know that you called me so don’t tell him. It’s enough that he will be pissed at me, you don’t need to be on his ‘hate-list’ too. And thanks for calling me, Ash.”   
“Not a problem, Brian. Take care of him, okay.”  
“Believe me, I will.”

We hung up and I went passed the cafeteria on my way back to Justin’s room, so that I had a ‘good’ excuse for my absence.

 

**Justin POV**

When Ash came back into the room she had a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand. My stomach grumbled weakly, knowing I wasn’t going to give it anything, how much it begged for it. I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I don’t know if Ash bought it or not, but at least she didn’t attempt to start any conversation. My stomach continued to grumble, but I ignored it. It felt as an eternity before a doctor finally showed up and then I had to sign like a dozen forms before they would release me. Ash insisted on driving me back to my apartment, I wanted to protest and walk back but the look in her eyes told me that it wasn’t worth the fight. Finally at the apartment, she reluctantly said good bye to me before returning to her car. I had to stop myself from not start running to the door and up the stairs. I walked as calmly as I could to the door, unlocked it and when I was sure I was out of Ash’s sight I took off running up the remaining of the stairs. Finally inside my apartment I sunk to the floor after closing the door. I sat on the floor trying to control my irregular breathing for a couple of minutes. Removing my jacket and putting it on the floor beside me, I felt all the fat on my stomach press against the waistband of my pants and I panicked, and started doing push-ups in desperation, trying to get rid of the fat. 67 push-ups later I felt like throwing up. I sat up and my stomach did a pathetic attempt of getting rid of the food I didn’t have.

When my stomach finally calmed down I had succeeded to spit a small amount of stomach-acid in the kitchen-sink. Taking off all my clothes I went to stand in front of the mirror, inspecting my body with judgmental eyes, seeing all the fat all over my body. My thighs were huge. My stomach was a big pile of fat. My arms were flabby and big and purely disgusting. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I quickly turned around from the mirror, crawling down under the duvet. The tears were now streaming down my cheeks and I didn’t have the strength to make them stop, so I just laid there, crying ‘til I fell into a restless sleep.  

 

**Brian POV**

My mind was racing. He fainted. He was in the hospital. There was something terrible wrong with him. Why had I waited so long before doing anything? Why hadn’t I fought harder to find out what was wrong when I saw him two months ago? How much worse had it gotten since I saw him? Had he lost even more weight? I booked the first flight possible and started packing. It killed me to think that I might lose my Sunshine because I knew I couldn’t live without him. I wasn’t really aware of my actions but all of a sudden I had dialed his number and it wasn’t until I heard him on the other end that I understood that I had called him.

“Brian, is that you?”

His voice, it was broken and raw. He sounded worse. I didn’t really know what to say, I just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

“Brian, are you there?”

I had to say something, or he would hang up.

“Yeah, I’m here.”  
“Okay, good.”

He sounded totally exhausted.

“I have had a long day and I’m really tired. Was it something you wanted?”  
“I… I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”  
“I’m fine Brian. Are you okay?”  
“I’m good.” _No, I’m not okay, I’m worried sick about you, please let me able to help you._

I heard him yawn on the other end and I quickly said:   
“Get some sleep, you sound like you need it. Sweet dreams, Justin, preferably about you and me having mind blowing sex.”   
“Oh, I will.”

That was the old Justin, the Justin I knew, and I missed him.

**

I awoke in cold sweat the next morning, my breathing erratic and my heart pounding in my chest and it took me a moment to realize that I had had a nightmare. It had been years since I last had one, but the content of it had been similar to this one, just under different circumstances. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fully shake of the dream until I had him in my arms, knowing that he was still alive. I looked at the alarm clock to check the time and realized I had to be at the airport in an hour and a half.

Finally on the plane I tried to relax but as soon as I closed my eyes all I saw was Justin’s pale, dead body. The pictures alternated between two scenarios, Justin unresponsive on concrete floor, life slowly leaving him along with crimson blood. And Justin, pale almost translucent, skinny so skinny, heart rate slowing down by the second until he’s gone.

I was really antsy when we finally touched down in New York. When I passed the luggage pick up I was relieved I only had hand-baggage with me, which meant I could get to Justin sooner. I took a cab to Justin’s apartment, using the code and key he had gave me two months ago to get inside. Just as I expected he wasn’t home. I was about to sit down in the sofa and relax, or try to, until he got home when I saw a strange looking medicine-bottle on the little table in front of the sofa. I grabbed it and I just knew that this wasn’t just one of his allergy-medicine. And when I read the label my heart sank in my chest. The problem was possibly a lot bigger than I had expected, or maybe I just had hoped the problem wouldn’t be so big and hard to beat. The bottle I held in my hand was diet pills. I didn’t want to believe it, not my Justin, not my Sunshine.

I was stopped in my train of thought by a sound at the door. It was Justin. He closed the door behind him and sunk to the floor, leaning his back against the door. He hadn’t seen me yet. He rubbed his forehand with the back of his hand and closed his eyes. I closed mine too, not wanting to see the damage he had caused himself any longer. He wasn’t Justin anymore. Suddenly I heard a thump and my eyes flew open, only to see that Justin had collapsed on the floor. I rushed up to him and fished up my cellphone and dialed 911. When an ambulance was on its way I carefully lifted his unconscious body and cradled it to my chest, hoping that he would be okay, that I wouldn’t lose my Sunshine.

**Justin POV (before the collapse)**

I had just run 7 miles with Luke and now I was beyond exhausted. Every muscle left in my body ached.  I just wanted to drink some water, take a pill and go back to sleep. My legs were like jelly and I managed to get inside my apartment before they gave up and I sank to the floor. I leant against the door, closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, trying to get rid of the pounding headache and the dizziness. Soon I felt myself drift into unconsciousness.

**Brian POV**

The ride to the hospital was one of the worst things I have ever done in my life. I snapped out of my thoughts when a doctor entered the room.

“Mr. Kinney?”  
“Brian. Mr. Kinney was my father.”  
“Brian, have you noticed something strange with Justin lately?”  
“Why? What’s wrong with him?”   
“He’s severely dehydrated and malnourished. His blood pressure is 90/60 and it should be at least 120/80. His heart rate is 47bpm and it should be somewhere between 60-80bpm. We’re going to give him a nutrient-IV and then all we can do is refer you to a therapist or psychologist.”  
“What?! That’s all you can do? He has fainted two days in a row due to this, whatever it is. It has to be something more you can do for him! Just look at him, for god sake and then say there isn’t anything more you can do!”  
“Brian, we can’t force Justin to eat if he doesn’t want to. The only things we can do is giving him a nutrient-IV and as I said refer you to a therapist, I’m going to be honest with you. Most patients with eating disorders don’t recover on their own without professional help.”  
“He has an eating disorder? You sure?”   
“I can almost hundred percent say that yes, he has, but I haven’t talked to him yet, so.”   
“Yeah, about that, when is he going to wake up?”  
“When we have hooked him up to the nutrient-IV and it takes its effect on him he could wake up anytime.”

Soon thereafter the doctor left, a nurse came in and hooked him up to an IV and then I was left alone with him. I didn’t really know what to do, him lying there perfectly still with wires and tubes hooked up to him.

“What have you done to yourself? Why haven’t you said anything about this? Why Sunshine?”

I grew quiet, not knowing what to say. I wasn’t a talker, had never been but the doctor had mentioned something about Justin recognizing my voice and wake up sooner. So I forced myself to start talking again, about anything but my head was empty. What was I supposed to say? So I found myself starting to speak about his prom.

“You were so beautiful, so happy that night and you probably don’t know this, because I don’t talk about a lot of things, but I think about that night pretty often and when I do I leave out the later part and instead make up an alternative ending of the evening which don’t include baseballs bats, bloodied silk scarfs and endless waiting. Another thing you don’t know, no one does, is that… that I tried… I tried to kill myself that night. I had hanged myself from the rafters, with that silk scarf. Before I had had some to drink and yeah, dear old Mikey came to the rescue. And now I’m glad I didn’t succeed because the way your eyes lit up when you saw me made it worth dealing with all the pain. I miss that Justin. When you smiled the whole room lit up and I miss your smile. I miss you, Justin.”

I took a second to breathe before I continued.

“That really made me sound like a lovey-dovey lesbian, but I can’t deny that it’s all true. So maybe you should wake up now, before I embarrass myself even more by telling more secrets.”

But he didn’t wake up.

 

**Justin POV**

The first thing I became aware of was a soft touch on my hand. And everything hurt, everything. There was a constant beeping somewhere close and it didn’t smell like my apartment at all. Then someone squeezed my hand and I forced myself to open my eyes. To say that I was shocked to see Brian sitting beside the bed was an understatement.  I don't know what I expected, but it sure wasn't this. 

"Justin."

He sounded exhausted and at the same time relived. I looked up more and focused on his eyes. I have never seen them so weary and... worried before. 

"Brian, what... what are you... doing here?" I rasped. 

"You're here."

I sat up, which resulted in a dizzy-spell. I felt Brian's hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down again. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I was going to check if you had turned into a lesbian since last time I saw you."  
"Not funny, Justin."

“But seriously Brian. Why are you here?”  
“I’m here because you’re here and you’re here because you passed out.”  
“No, I mean why are you in New York?”  
“I was going to surprise you and I was waiting in your apartment. Then you came home and passed out before you saw me. You really scared me, Justin. I thought I was going to lose you to this disease.”  
“What disease? I’m not sick. I just haven’t slept that well because I’m really stressed over this new show.”  
“Oh, you have a new show. Congratulations.”

I knew I had lied to Brian about the show, but I wasn’t sick, so what was I supposed to say? ‘I passed out ‘cause I haven’t been eating.’ Not likely, ‘cause then he would make me eat and I would lose my control. And that was out of the question.

 

**Brian POV**

I just wanted to shout at him, just shout, and get all my fear out. ‘Why can’t you see that you’re sick, Justin? Why can’t you see the fact that you passed out because you have been starving yourself for god knows how long. And I haven’t noticed anything and I didn’t do anything to stop you from destroying yourself. Just why? WHY?’ But I could hardly shout that right in his face. So I just slumped back into the chair and said:

“You’re coming with me back home.”  
“No, you don’t need to escort me back to my apartment. I’m an adult and I’m capable of taking a cab back to my apartment all by myself.”  
“I don’t mean your apartment when I say home, Justin. I mean Pittsburgh. You’re coming back with me to Pittsburgh.”   
“No I’m not! I live here now. This is my home now.”  
“It’s not like you have a choice Justin. You’re coming back with me to Pittsburgh and I’m not taking no for an answer.”  
“Well you’re going to have to, because the only answer you’re going to get is no.”  
“Excuse me but since when do you get to decide what I should do?”

I could tell he was getting upset and I didn’t want him to hurt himself more than he already had, so I put my hand on his shoulder and forced him to be still.

“Justin. Calm down, Justin. We’ll stay at your apartment, it’s okay. Just calm down, please.”   
“We?”  
“Yes, we. I’m not leaving you alone when you’re… when you’re like this. Passing out, I mean.”   
“Right.”

That was the only response I got to it. Not that I had expected to get more. At least he hadn’t said no to me coming back with him to his apartment. But I sure as hell hadn’t given up on getting him back to Pittsburgh, rather sooner than later.

 

**Justin POV**

I really couldn’t leave New York, no way. Everything that meant something was in New York. Of course Brian meant a lot to me too, but still I couldn’t leave New York, not Luke and definitely not my control. I don’t know what Brian expected would change with him staying at my place, but I didn’t like it. Brian was not going to understand my need for control, or maybe he would, to some extent. But I wasn’t really comfortable around Brian anymore, because it felt as if I was a burden on him, like I had failed him. I didn’t want him to see me, to look at the masses of fat that still existed on my body. He had said he was worried, but he didn’t have anything to be worried about, I was fine. Sure I had passed out, twice in the last couple of days but that was just a piece of the price I had to pay to get in control, to please Ana. Passing out, the dizzy spells, the constant hunger, a price I was more than willing to pay to be a success.

The next few days passed by without anything in particular happening. Brian made me eat; I purged it up fifteen minutes later. Brian didn’t suspect a thing because I had learned to do it silently, with some help and some tips from Luke. There were days when Brian would be on his phone almost constantly, working I presumed. Those days I made lunch and dinner, just so Brian wouldn’t suspect anything. We ate together in silence and then he went back to his phone and I went to reclaim my control, my perfection.

When I thought about it, when the old Justin thought about the routine I had fallen into since Brian insisted he’d stay with me I found it quite scary. It maybe was scary how easy I had fallen into a routine to expel all the food I ate. I don’t think that I have properly digested something in like two or three weeks. That in itself should be enough to scare me of and to make me start eating normally again, but it didn’t. I had a goal, 60lb. I wanted to be able to see all my bones, and then maybe I’ll stop. Maybe I’ll stop when I’m able to see and feel my bones, hipbones, collarbones, ribs, cheekbones. Just maybe I would stop then, when I had reached perfection, when I was as light as air.

Today Brian had a meeting with a client, in New York, but still it would leave me to have some alone-time, which I hadn’t had in the last week. Of course he made me eat, a in my opinion huge, breakfast. Soon thereafter he left and I purged the breakfast up. I drank a couple of glasses of water and purged again, just to be sure I got everything out. I was quite sure I had when I saw blood appear. It was quite a lot and it scared me to the core. A dizzy spell hit me hard and I collapsed on the floor, my body felt like it was simply shutting down. I felt my heart first speed up before it slowed down and I couldn’t seem to get enough of air into my lungs. My stomach seized and I felt more bile rise up my throat, I coughed and brought up more bile and blood. I wished I had brought my phone with me, so I could call someone, call for help. To my relief I heard someone opening the door. I really wished it wasn’t Brian who had forgot something and come back.

“Justin? You home?”

I sighed in relief. It was Luke.

“Justin?”

I willed myself to answer him, but I couldn’t. Each time I tried I only succeeded to cough up more blood.

“Justin?”

Panic was evident in his voice this time. I tried to answer him again, but only coughed up more blood. I felt my consciousness start to slip away but before everything went totally black I saw Luke entering the bathroom.

 

**Luke POV**

I had called Justin four times and I started to worry. He used to answer on one of the first rings. When half an hour had passed since I last called him I decided to go over there and see that everything was okay.

The door was unlocked which meant he had to be home, because he never, ever forgets to look the door, at least not as long I known him. He’d told me one time he forgot to set the alarm at his boyfriend’s house one time when he was younger. That thought left my head as soon as it had entered and I called out for him.

“Justin? You home?”

There wasn’t any answer. That worried me.

“Justin?”

Still no answer and I felt my panic rise. Then I heard it, a low, pained coughing.

“Justin?”

Even though I knew I wouldn’t find him in good shape I was shocked when I saw him. He was lying on the bathroom floor. He was extremely pale, tears were streaming down his hollow cheeks and there was a small puddle of blood underneath his face. First I thought he had cracked his head open when he collapsed onto the tile. I took a few small steps towards him, not wanting to startle him. I knelt down beside him and carefully stroked his forehead.

“Justin?”

His lips parted as if he was about to respond, but instead it set of violent convulsions in his chest. Then there was that horrible coughing and blood slowly trickled down his chin. At least it wasn’t dark blood, which meant it wasn’t his stomach or intestine that had ruptured. Most likely there was a blood vessel in his throat that had broken. I sighed in relief when I realized he hadn’t cracked his head open too. 

“Justin? Don’t speak. Just if you hear me, squeeze my hand, okay?” I said and took his cold, clammy hand in mine. Soon I felt him squeeze. It was weak, but at least he wasn’t passed out.

“Justin, did you purge? Squeeze one time for yes and two for no, okay?”

One squeeze.

“Stay calm, okay? I’m going to call an ambulance, because there blood vessels that have broken in your throat and we need to make sure it isn’t more severe than I think.”

I heard his breathing pick up and getting more erratic by each second that passed.

“But I need you to stay calm Justin, okay? Can you do that for me?”

He squeezed my hand once and I picked up my phone and dialed 911.

 

**Brian POV**

I was in the middle of meeting with a client when my phone went off. 212.312.5000. A New York-number. I had thought it would be Justin. Who else would call me, from a New York-number? That’s when it hit me. The hospital. Oh God, I shouldn’t have left him alone.

“I have to take this call, excuse me.” I forced out before I left the room.

“Hello?”  
“Hello, I’m calling from the emergency department at the Downtown Hospital in New York and I need to speak urgently with Mr. Brian Kinney.”  
“I’m Brian Kinney.”  
“I’m Dr. Alder and I’m calling because a Mr. Justin Taylor has come in and you’re listed as his ICE, his emergency contact.”   
“I’m coming there.”  
“Mr. Kinney, your number suggests that you’re not located in the New York area…”  
“I’m in New York at the moment.”  
“Good then, just ask for me when you arrive and I’ll bring you to Justin.”  
“Thank you, Doctor.”

Okay, deep breaths, Brian. Deep breaths. After explaining the situation to the client I was in a cab on my way to Downtown Hospital. The ride unfortunately gave me too much time to think. What could have happened this time? Had he passed out again? Was it ‘more’ serious this time around? Had he damaged his body too much and it just couldn’t take anymore? What if this morning was the last time I would see him alive? No, no I couldn’t think that he was dead or dying, no I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. By the time I arrived to the hospital my heart was hammering in my chest and I ran up to the front desk.

“How can I help you, sir?”  
“Dr. Alder called me. I’m Justin Taylor’s emergency contact. And Dr. Alder said I should ask for him at the front desk.”  
“I’ll page him immediately, Mr?”  
“Brian Kinney.”

I thought that I was prepared for what the doctor was going to say, but when the words had passed his lips I was beyond shocked. He had two small Mallory-Weiss tears in his throat, he was extremely dehydrated and his electrolyte-balance was all messed up. They had given him a nutrient-IV, to replace potassium and sodium and to give his body fluids. They had done an endoscopy to look at the tears in his throat. But it was one thing he told me that left me broken. Justin had made himself sick, like physically sick. He had forced himself to bring the food back up after he had eaten. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.

** 

“So you’re the famous Brian Kinney.”

I turned around to see that skinny guy I had seen Justin hang out at the show with.

“I’m Luke, btw. I’m the one that found Justin in the bathroom.”  
“Well, I suppose I should thank you for bringing him to the hospital.”  
“He wouldn’t have been here in the first place if he had been strong. Purging isn’t good. It’s better to refrain from stuffing your face in the first place. At least that’s my opinion.  Anyway, is he okay? They won’t tell me anything.”  
“Excuse me? What the fuck did you just say?”  
“I said: He wouldn’t have been here in the first place if he had been strong. Purging isn’t goo...”  
“Yeah, I heard you.”  
“Then why did you ask what I said?”   
“What have you done to him?”  
“I’ve helped him.”   
“You’ve helped him?”  
“Yeah, without me he would have failed.”  
“And by failed you mean?”  
“Lose control, get fat, take your pick.”  
“Don’t you get that you have got him to destroy himself? He’s miserable. He’s making himself sick. He’s… how sick are you, you fucking moron?!”  
“He’s doing what he wants. He made the choice to follow the right path all by himself, I’ve only helped him. And he has helped me. We help each other.”  
“Doing what he wants? How long have you known him? I’ve known him for the past six years, and I can tell you that this isn’t what he wants!”  
“Then why is he doing it? It’s not like I force him to do it, he wants this.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. To get the information I needed, maybe I had to play his game, speak his language.

“So what have you done to help him?”  
“Encouraged him. Taught him a few tips of how to keep in control. That kind of thing. Why do you ask?”  
“Because I’M going to HELP him.”   
“You can’t. Not if he doesn’t want YOUR help.”

I knew that was true. Justin had to want to get better, otherwise it would never work, I would never be able to help him if he didn’t want to be helped. And that scared me to the core, what if I would really lose him. No, I wouldn’t. After a couple of minutes of silence Luke spoke up again.

“So, is he okay? Like I said, they won’t tell me anything because I’m not a relative or ICE or anything, I’m just …Luke.”

Seconds ago I had hated the guy in front of me, but those sad eyes, that statement got to me. I still hated him though, just not as much. It was obvious the guy was broken and it felt as if I wanted to do something for him, help him. Not that he would accept it; maybe he was far too broken.

We were quiet, just looking at each other. After what felt like an eternity Dr. Alder came back.

“Brian, you can go in and see him now if you want. He is still sleeping from the sedative we gave him. And before you say anything about all his allergies, his friend had his emergency allergy card with him, so it’s safe.”  
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll go in a second.”  
“He’s in room 406, right down the hall over there. I have to get back to work. Just tell the nurses to page me if anything happens.”

I nodded and then turned back to Luke. He sat curled up in his seat and his face was buried in his hands.

“Luke?”  
“It’s okay if hate me. Everyone does.”   
“I would be lying if I said I didn’t hate you, because you have helped my Justin destroy himself. But I don’t want you to… I don’t know much about this… thing, but I don’t want to see you go even deeper into this. I kind of want to help you too. If that makes any sense at all right now.”   
“I don’t want help. Maybe you can save Justin, but you can’t save me. You can’t save anyone if they don’t want to be saved.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just put my hand on his bony knee and gave a light squeeze before I went down the hall to Justin’s room. I don’t know what I expected to see, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Justin was extremely pale, his skin almost translucent. His eyes were closed, big, dark bags underneath. His cheeks all sunken in and his collarbones stood out… like a lot. He had all different kind of machines and tubes hooked up to him. My stomach turned into knots at the sight of what he had done to himself. He looked so much worse now compared to when I saw him this morning. Pale, skinny and broken. A wave of nausea overwhelmed me and I ran out of the room and staggered to the nearest bathroom. I just made it to the toilet before my breakfast made a reoccurrence. I felt tears stream down my cheeks and I wiped them away, but it was pointless because they kept coming. _“What the fuck have you done? Why haven’t I done anything to stop you? Why are doing it?”_ A fresh wave of nausea took over my body and I threw up again. As soon as the nausea subsided I rinsed my mouth and made the mistake of look myself in the mirror. What looked back at me wasn’t my own reflection; it was Justin pale, skinny body. I felt my heart break a little more and without even being aware of my actions I smashed my fist into the mirror. The mirror cracked and small pieces of glass rained down over my hands and onto the sink and the floor. Some of the pieces sunk into my knuckles. I stared at the wall where the mirror had been minutes ago and just breathed before I made my way out in the corridor again. I was just about to walk back into Justin’s room when a nurse stopped me.

“Sir, you’re bleeding. Let me take a look at that.”

I wanted to refuse, but then I looked down on my hand and it didn’t look that nice. Pieces of the mirror stuck into the flesh and crimson blood trickling from the wounds down over my hand. So I nodded and followed the nurse to a small room. When she had pulled the pieces out, disinfected the wounds and wrapped bandage around it I went back to Justin’s room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Brian POV**

When I entered the room the second time Justin was awake. I didn’t know how long I had been gone, it could be fifteen minutes and it could be an hour. He stared me right in the eyes, and his eyes almost black and full of anger.

“Go back to Pittsburgh, Brian. This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you. I don’t want you here. Go back to your life.”

He spokes with such venom in his voice that it seriously makes me consider if he would kill me if I came too close.

“Leave now, before I call security.”

I took one last look at him and then left the room without a word. I barely made it out of the hospital before I broke down. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I gasped for air. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and was surprised when I saw Luke standing there.

“What happened?”

I just shook my head and covered my face with my hands; the tears continue to roll down my face.

“Is he..?”

I understood what he was about to ask, but just couldn’t force himself to say, so I just shook my head. It was all quiet for a couple of minutes except my sobbing until I spoke.

“He told me to leave. That it was my fault he was here.”

He was quiet at first and I almost thought he wasn’t going to respond.

“Don’t leave, Brian. Wait here, okay, let me talk to him.”

 

**Luke POV**

He couldn’t die. He had people that cared about him. Maybe I had taken this thing to far. It was one thing doing it to myself, because I deserved it, and nobody cared about me anyway. The only one that would even notice that I was gone was Justin, and he would get over me. But it was another thing to help someone else to destroy themselves, as Brian described it. He just couldn’t die. He had people that cared about him, people that loved him.

When I came into his room he turned towards me with black eyes full of anger. It was like he had expected Brian to return, but when he saw it was me his eyes softened.

“He just cares about you, you know.”  
“It’s his fault I’m here. If it hadn’t been for him, I hadn’t been eating and I hadn’t been forced to purge and if I hadn’t purged I wouldn’t have tears in my throat…”  
“He just wants to help you.”   
“You are the only one that helps me. He just destroys everything I have worked hard to get. And since when are you on his side?”  
“Since now, and I’m not entirely on his side. I just thought that… Whatever. He cares and he wants to help, help his way. He thinks I’m helping you destroying yourself.”  
“I’m not destroying myself.”  
“I’m not saying you are. His words, not mine.”   
“I don’t want his help. I just want to get out of here so I can take another pill and then weigh myself.”

I didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t die, I couldn’t lose him.

“What’s wrong, Luke? You look miserable.”  
“I… I can’t… you can’t…  I mean… I can’t lose you.”  
“You’re not going to lose me. Where did you get that crazy idea?”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“Yeah I do. Why would you lose me?”  
“You could die, you know.”  
“That’s not likely.”  
“It is. You need to know that. You need to know what you’re doing to your body. Maybe this isn’t what you really want…”  
“Of course it is. Why would you even say that? I’m not going to die!”

I sighed and looked down on my shoes.

“You could die. I’m not saying you’re going to, but… I can’t lose you, okay. You have people that care about you, that love you, unlike me.”  
“I care, Luke. You have to know that.”  
“Yeah, I know. Just think about it, maybe it’s for the best if you let Brian help you.”

He started to protest, but before he could get any words out I cut him off.

“Just think about it. I’m not saying you have to let him help you. I’m here if you need me and if you want my help, but just give it some thought, okay? That’s all I’m asking. I’ll see you later then?”   
“Whatever. Yeah see you, Luke.”

I carefully lent forward and gave him a quick hug before leaving the room. Walking past Brian, who still stood where I left him.  He started to say something, but I just kept walking, not up to talk to anybody at the moment. An urge I hadn’t felt in a long time was about to take over my whole existence. If I didn’t get relief soon I was going to go insane, for real. I itched for the razors, more than I ever had before. I just couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t lose another friend, I just couldn’t.

 

**Brian POV**

I thought that Luke would have stopped and told me how it went, or something. So when he just walked past me, looking miserable, I didn’t think twice before I started walking after him. I grabbed his arm and he turned around to face me.

“What?” He snapped.  
“What happened?” I asked, my voice still rough from crying.   
“I… I… tri… I tried…” He choked out, and it sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.  
“Tried? Tried what? Make him believe that he’s doing the right thing?”

I was trying to my hardest not to break down again.

“No… No. I tried making him understand that it’s better for him if he lets himself get helped, by you. I tried, I swear I tried. I did, I promise. But he just refused.”

I didn’t know what to say. I knew I should say something, but what? It was obvious that he as hurting, so instead of saying something I put my arms around him and held him close.

“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have helped him get that bad. Just please help him. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose another friend.”

I was about to start say something when he quickly untangled himself from my embrace and said:

“I really have to go.”

And before I was able to reply he was gone. For a couple of minutes I just stood there, staring into thin air, just thinking about what I was supposed to do now. Was I supposed to just leave, as Justin requested? No, I wasn’t supposed to leave. It wasn’t Justin who had told me to leave, it was disease that had spoken those words. I turned to the entrance and walked with determined steps back towards Justin’s room.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking his legs back and forth. His eyes were closed and he counted quietly to himself. I put my hand on his bony knee. He winced as if I had given him an electric shock and then looked up at me.

“What is it about ‘leave’ that you don’t understand?”  
“Nothing, I understand perfectly well what ‘leave’ means.”  
“Then why are you still here? Don’t you get that I don’t want you here? That you’re only ruining this for me?”  
“The only one ruining things here is you, Justin. It’s you who are destroying yourself, not me. It isn’t on account of me that you have been starved yourself…”

As the words came out of my mouth I fully understand the severity of the situation.

“I don’t starve myself. I eat. Hell you have even seen me eat, for god sake!”  
“And are you going to tell me that you have kept the food down?”

 “I don’t want to answer that.”

At least he didn’t lie straight to my face.

“No, of course not.”   
“Just leave Brian. Just leave me alone.”  
“I’m not leaving you, Justin. I’m not. I’m going to help you, whether you like it or not.”  
“Don’t you get it? I don’t want your help!”   
“I get it. But I don’t give a shit, you’re getting help, whether you like it or not, because I’m not losing you!”

 

**Justin POV**

Why couldn’tBrian just leave me alone? Why was he still here, even though I had told him multiply times to leave, to leave me alone, and to go back to Pittsburgh? And Luke, why was he suddenly on Brian’s side? I thought he would stand by me?

_Why would anyone want to stand by you? It’s beyond me why Brian isn’t leaving you when he has the chance? Why would he want to be around you, you disgusting, fat freak? He is only staying out of pity. He feels sorry for you for being so fat and ugly. Just look at all this fat. Flabby thighs, huge stomach, puffy face and flabby, fat arms. Burn the fat, for god sake. Just look at yourself, you’re a disgrace to the rest of the world. Burn that fat, drop those pounds. NOW!_

I got up from the bed and started bouncing up and down on my toes.

“Justin.”

Brian said and grabbed my arm. I pulled it back and turned around to face him.

“What are you still doing here, Brian?”  
“I care, okay? I love you, Justin.”

I used to love hearing him say those words, but now I only thought that he made fun of me. Because how could he ever love me? Me of all people. Ugly, fat, disgusting, worthless, untalented, a failure and a disgrace. Nobody could ever love me.  
 _You’re right. You are ugly, fat, disgusting, worthless, untalented. A freak, a failure, disgrace. And nobody could ever love you, much less Brian. He is too good for you. And keep bouncing, you should just dare to stop, I will punish you if you stop burning those disgusting calories, that despiteful fat that you still have on your body._

He grabbed my arm again, this time holding it tighter. I tried to get out of his grip, when it didn’t work I yelled.

“Get off me! Let go of me! Leave! I don’t want you here!”

When he didn’t ease his grip and didn’t leave the spot he stood in. So telling him to leave didn’t work, it was time a new technic.

“I hate you, Brian!”

I yelled straight in his face before rushing out of the room.

 

**Brian POV**

I stood frozen in shock for a minute before I too left the room to go looking for him. But as soon as I reached the corridor I saw that the doctors already had caught him and was leading him back to his room. Our eyes met for a brief second before he shut his eyes and turned his head away. But I swear I could see unshed tears shining in his eyes before he turned away. I was not going to follow him back into the room, he wouldn’t appreciate that. So instead I just said:

“I love you, Justin.”

I didn’t get any reaction, not that I had expected to receive one, but it still hurt. It hurt how cold he was. I had to tell myself multiply times that this wasn’t my Justin, this was the disease, to make myself believe it.

After talking to the doctor, who let me know that they planned on release him in a day after they had stabilized his levels by giving him more nutrient IV and trying to get him to eat, and that they would like if me, or someone could come and pick Justin up once they had released him. I told him to give me a call when he was being released and I would be there, I went back to Justin apartment.

I knew I had almost totally neglected my work in the past week. So when I came back to the apartment I called Ted. I told him that I wasn’t going to be able to work for a while, that it was Justin, and that I needed to take some time off. Ted protested at first and started rattling about all the important, multi-million clients until I interrupted him and said that Justin was more important than all those clients together. After that Ted said that he and Cynthia would deal with the clients until I was able to come back to work. I thanked him and hang up.

I put my head in my hands and just breathed, trying to collect my thoughts. I didn’t know much about eating disorders, so I decided to do some research. What I found hurt me more than I had expected. Distorted body-image and starvation that could lead to serious complications such as heart problems, organ failure, seizures and death. Death. I kind of regretted I had read this, but at the same time I knew that without the right knowledge I wouldn’t be able to help him get better. So I continued with my research even though it physically hurt to read about all the symptoms, possible complications, statics of survival and total recovery and soon I found myself on a pro-ana site. The site claimed to offer support and comfort for those who had chosen this lifestyle. Lifestyle? They called it a lifestyle? It was a fucking disease. I felt physically sick when I read about the best ways to lose weight, to get as skinny as possible, what you were allowed to eat, but mostly what food was totally forbidden. I couldn’t take this anymore and searched for ‘eating disorder help’ instead. I had to know how to help Justin, even if he didn’t want to be helped, not by me anyway.

Hours later I was beyond exhausted after reading site after site, trying to find the best way to help Justin. The refeeding process had to happen at a certain pace so that the body didn’t go into shock. Something that came up on a lot of the sites were something called refeeding syndrome, which could happen if the malnourished person received a too large intake of carbohydrates, and it could really mess up stuff with the electrolytes that lead to fluid imbalances. Those fluid imbalances could be fatal, and at that my heart clenched. I had found an eating disorder center in Pittsburgh, COPE, Center for Overcoming Problem Eating and had already contacted them. They offered inpatient programs as well as outpatient programs, with therapy as well as education in getting to understand your own body and also about what nutrient it needed.

I just wanted to shut of my brain. Didn’t want to think. Not think about Justin, skinny, sick Justin lying in a hospital bed, all alone. I wanted to be there with him, but he didn’t want me there. I shut down the laptop, made sure the door was locked before I went to turn all the lights off. Walking into the kitchen-area I saw a notebook lying opened on the counter. Taking a closer look at the open page, and instantly regretting doing so. What I saw on the paper made my heart stop and tears pooled in my eyes. I picked the notebook up and read the words that were neatly written in Justin’s handwriting.

 _"Waking up thinner is worth going to bed hungry"_   _  
_ _“You've come too far in life to take orders from a cookie!_ ” _  
“_ _A moment on lips..... forever on the hips.”_ _  
_ _"Stay strong! Starve on!"_ _  
_ _"An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person.”_ _  
_ _"I'm not there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday."_    
 _"Feet together, thighs apart."_ _  
_ _"Because the farther I go today the closer I am tomorrow."_ _  
_ _"Your stomach isn't grumbling. It's applauding."_ _  
_ _"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels."_

_call it sickness,_

_call it madness,_

_call it obsession,_

_I don’t care.._

_I still call it _perfection_._

 

Not being able to take it any longer, I dropped the notebook back onto the counter and stumbled to Justin’s bed.

 

“I am going to help you, Justin.” I whispered into the dark night.

 

Curling up on the bed, still in my clothes and not even bothering to cover myself with the duvet I feel into a restless slumber, tears still streaming down my cheeks.

 

**Justin POV**

The doctors who had caught me when I ran from the room are gone, after they had hooked me up to another nutrition-IV. It really stings in the crook of my arm where the needle is inserted, pumping all that disgusting liquid inside my veins. I feel bloated and fat. But wait a minute; I stopped in my train of thought. Did I just tell Brian that I hated him? I could never hate him, never. What had Ana made me do?

 _I only made you admit the truth._  
"I don't hate him. I love him."  
 _He's only trying to ruin everything for you. He will make you lose control, do you want that?_  
"No, but I still love him."  
 _No, you love control. And Brian is taking your control away._

That was true. I loved control and if I allowed Brian to ‘help’ me he would take my control away. But that still didn’t mean I didn’t love Brian.

_Continue to bounce, fat-ass._

I did. I didn’t want to disappoint Ana.

_You’re doing good. Really good. Continue to work hard and with my help you will be perfect in no time._

I smiled at her praise and kept bouncing. Ana didn’t say anything after that, which meant she was really pleased with me.

 

It wasn’t until later in the evening that she started talking to me again. I swiftly wondered what she wanted this time; maybe she just wanted to tell me how fat I was.

_You have to get out of here. If you stay here you will get fat. You will lose your control. They will feed you and you will get fat. You don’t need food, you need control. Get out of here, NOW! They may tell you they want to help you, but all they really want is to make you fat, to make you disgusting and ugly. Do you want that?_

I winced at the thought of getting fat and shook my head. I really didn’t want to get fat. I needed control, and I needed to get out of here.

_Pull that IV out before you get fat. Pull it out and then run. Burn off all those calories they have pumped into you._

I did, I pulled it out. I grabbed the tube and pulled. A sharp, throbbing pain radiated from the wound out through my whole body. I swallowed thickly and looked down on my arm. Crimson blood was trickling down my arm and onto the floor. I felt tears start to build up in my eyes, but I blinked them away before they had a chance to roll down my cheeks.

_Pull yourself together and get out of here before they see you._

I carefully opened the door and peeked into the corridor. The coast was clear, not a nurse in sight. I made it outside without getting caught. Ana told me to run and I did. It was 3 miles to my apartment, normally that wouldn’t have been a problem, but with aching muscles, no food in my system and heavy raindrops beating down on my cold limbs it felt like forever before I could see the house.

I made it up to my door before my legs simply gave up on holding my weight up and I crumpled, landing on the floor with a thud.

 

**Brian POV**

His eyes were closed, his body frail, only skin and bones left. He’s completely still apart from his chest that is barely moving up and down. _One, two, three._ She was sitting beside him, slowly and tenderly stoked him over what once were thick, silky blonde hair. _Four, five, six._ The sounds in the room echoed against the white, sterile walls. The beeping noise of the heart monitor, the dripping of the IV, Justin’s strained breathing and Ana’s low whispered condescending words. _Seven, eight, nine._ I never felt more helpless in my life, not even during those three days after he was bashed. _Ten, eleven, twelve._ Ana’s long, black hair framing her skeleton-like face, the big dark eyes glistening with anger and disappointment, the skinny legs tucked under her, her whole appearance quite scary. _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen._

“You will never be perfect. You will never be loved. You’re a disgrace to mankind. Everyone is ashamed of you. You can’t even do the simplest thing like not eating, staying away from the poison you call food.”

_Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen._

“Justin, please listen to me.” I said, my voice all chocked up from the lump of tears stuck in my throat.

_Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one._

“Don’t listen to him. He only destroys it for you.”

I couldn’t help it, tears of sorrow, pain and helplessness started rolling down my cheeks. I couldn’t do anything to get Justin to listen to me instead of Ana and I couldn’t do anything to make Ana leave us alone. _Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four._ In the semi-darkness of the room Justin looked almost dead. I knew this was it. This was the last minutes of his life, the last minutes of our time together. _Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven._

“Now you will finally be perfect.” Ana whispered and stroked his cheek.

 _Twenty-eight… Twenty-nine_ never came.

**

I sat up in the bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, gasping for breath. The sheets were drenched in sweat, my heart hammered like crazy in my chest. For a minute the only thing I could hear was the beating of my heart and my erratic breathing, but suddenly there was a loud thud. I rose from the bed quickly, getting lightheaded in the process.

I wasn’t ready for what I saw when I opened the door. Justin was lying motionless on the floor. He was soaked, his skin translucent with a tint of blue, blood trickling down his left arm. As I crouched down beside him his eyelids fluttered open and he looked up at me with weary eyes.

“What have you done to yourself?”

He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. My heart clenched when I realized that he didn’t even have the strength to answer. I carefully lifted him up and cradled him to my chest. I started walking back into the apartment, kind of expecting him to protest, but he was simply too exhausted and instead leant his head against my neck.

He was fast asleep before his head even hit the pillow. I cautiously stripped of his soaked clothes and cleaned the wound in the crook of his arm, trying not to look at his emaciated body as it was physically painful to see the very extent of the problem for the first time. After wrapping bandage around his arm and dressing him in a large sweater I laid down beside him, pulling him close, relishing the closeness that hadn’t existed in the past week. I didn’t know what tomorrow might bring, but for now I enjoyed just listening to him breath, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, knowing he was still alive.

 

**Justin POV**

I woke up the next morning, feeling dizzy and disorientated. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust enough for me to take in my surroundings. I was in my apartment. My memory of getting back here was kind of hazy. The last thing I can clearly remember is throwing my breakfast up. As I was lying there the memories of yesterday started to come back. Throwing up, the blood, Luke finding me, the hospital, telling Brian to leave me alone, telling Brian that I hated him, Ana yelling at me, escaping from the hospital, walking back here in the rain, collapsing outside the door. But I have no memory what so ever of getting to the bed. Maybe I was exhausted that I simply couldn’t reme…

All of a sudden there was a movement beside me and I started to panic. I quickly turned me head towards whatever what was moving, my eyes landing on… Brian. Brian, what was Brian doing here? Even after I had told him to leave, multiply times.

_“I’m not leaving you, Justin. I’m not. I’m going to help you, whether you like it or not.”_

His words were echoing inside my head. And to be honest I didn’t want him to leave.

_Of course you do. He’s destroying for you and taking away your control. Do you rather be with him or have control?_

I wanted to shout at her to shut up, to leave me alone, but deep down I knew she was right. But still I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want Brian to leave.

Why can’t Brian just be here?

_Because he is ruining this for you._

I still don’t have to eat. I’m not going to eat. I don’t want to be fat. I don’t want to lose control. I want to be loved, I want to be perfect.

_You do know that Brian is going to try to get you to eat, right? He thinks that he can ‘help’ you. It’s pathetic really, not as pathetic as you though. You CAN’T eat! Not under any circumstances, no matter how much he asks you to or begs you to, you will NOT eat! Eating is for weak people, for lazy people, for people who aren’t strong enough. And you want to be strong, to be perfect, right?_

Yes. I’m not going to eat. If I against all odds do, please feel free to punish me, because if I eat I deserve to be punished.

_Okay, fatty. Brian can stay, as long as you don’t eat. Deal? And don’t fool yourself that I’m going to be open to discuss things in the future. If you want control, you have to listen to my every word._

 

“Justin?”

Brian’s words startled me and I snapped out of my inner dialogue. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Yes.”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I should be asking you that, since I’m the one living here.”  
“I mean… did the doctors release you?”

_Don’t say a word!_

I didn’t. I didn’t dare to challenge Ana.

“Or did you run away from the hospital?”  
“I had to.”  
“You had to?”   
“Yes.”   
“Why can’t you let the doctors help you?”  
“I don’t need their help!”

He took a deep breath, probably to collect himself and figuring out what to say.

“If you keep going on like this you will die.”

I could hear how strained his voice sounded even though he obviously tried to hide it.

“No I won’t. There’s nothing wrong with me.”  
“Please, don’t say that. You don’t have to tell me how you feel or why you’re doing it or anything, just don’t say that you’re not sick, because it is obvious that you are.”   
“I’M NOT SICK! WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT?!”   
“Justin, you are starving yourself, that is NOT healthy!”  
“I eat. You have even seen me eat, for Christ sake.”  
“Yeah, and as soon as I’m not paying attention anymore you make yourself puke it up.”

I was about to start talking when he cut me off and said:

“And don’t dare lie about it, because the doctor told me that you had two Mallory Weiss tears in your throat due to self-induced vomiting.”

I turned away from him and stared into the wall instead. It was totally quiet beside the sound of our breathing. After what felt like an eternity I felt him lay his hand on my hip.

“So can we please just go back to the hospital and make sure you’re alright. Or as alright you can be?”  
“I’m fine. I don’t need to go back to the hospital.”  
“Just… you… you… do…”

He took a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to do it for yourself, can you please do it for me?”

I was about to flat out refuse, but then I turned around and met his gaze. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, teeth digging into his lower lip and all I could do was nod.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated and it will probably take time before I update again, and I'm sorry for that too.

**Brian POV**

“You do realize that I’m going to run away again if you put me in here one more time?”

We were all sitting in Dr. Alder’s office, talking. We’d discussed Justin’s escape and now after almost an hour of persuasion Justin had finally agreed to let the doctors do some tests and check his levels, making sure they hadn’t changed for the worse.

Before I had a chance to respond to him he had walked out together with a nurse.

“What Justin is saying is true. He will run away again. If he doesn’t want help and is motivated to get better there is nothing we can do for him. I’m truly sorry, Brian, but that’s the truth. I have dealt with enough eating disorder patients to know that if they don’t want help you can’t help them. And as much as I would like to be able to treat every patient, we don’t have the space, time or staff to have that kind of patient that doesn’t want help, here. I’m sorry.”

I just wanted to kick something, break something, just something to get rid of the building anger and fear inside my chest. I just wanted this nightmare to be over. I wanted my Justin back.

When Justin was done with all the tests and they had gotten the results back we were free to go. Dr. Alder told me to bring Justin in if his condition worsened. I had rolled my eyes at him and wanting to say. “As if I wouldn’t have done that without you telling me to.” But I refrained and just nodded.

Justin’s levels were the same as yesterday, which was both a relief and a disappointment. I had wanted to hear that they had gotten better, but at least they hadn’t gotten worse. The tears in his throat were almost healed, which was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders.

The cab-ride back to the apartment was made in total silence. The atmosphere between was so thick with pent up emotions that you could have cut it with a dull knife. The cab had barely come to a stop before Justin bolted out of the car and sprinted towards the door. How he could have the energy for that was beyond me. I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat before paying the driver and getting out of the car as well. When I entered the apartment the first thing I saw was Justin frantically looking for something, turning everything upside down. Firstly I didn’t understand what on earth he could be looking for, but then I remembered the pills I had found. It must be those diet pills he was so desperately trying to find.

“Looking for these?” I asked him after I had retrieved the pill-bottle from my bag.   
“What… Where… Why… How…”

He didn’t seem to be able to be form a whole sentence at the moment, I hadn’t quite expected him to be this shocked.

“I… I need those.” He said after a while, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side.   
“No, you don’t. Even if I can’t force fed you I’m sure as hell isn’t going to stand by watching you causing yourself even more damage.”

I swallowed the sudden lump of emotion in my throat.

“You don’t understand. I need them.”   
“No you don’t, that’s why I flushed them away.”  
“WHAT?!YOU HAD NO RIGHT! YOU HAD NO RIGHT DOING THAT!”  
“I can’t stand by and watch you damage yourself.”  
“Whatever! By the way, just so know, you can’t stop me from taking them. If you flush them away I just go and get new ones.”

He said before he stomped into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I sunk down onto the sofa and buried my face in my hands, just breathing, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

 

**Justin POV**

How could he? How dare he take my pills? I need those. How can he not just understand that? I can feel anger burn in my veins and I just want to disappear, get back in control, be perfect. And now I have to get new pills. I groan and collapse onto the bed. Tears of frustration and anger pool in the corner of my eyes and I hate myself a little bit more. How could he betray me like that? Did he want me to fail to reach my goal? It sure seemed that way. I thought he loved me, but I guess I just have fooled myself all these years, and I gotta hand it to him, he sure knew how to lie and be convincible. So just why… why… why?

It was first when I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and scrambled eggs that I realized I had fallen asleep in the first place. I slowly rose from the bed, trying to avoid getting light-headed, and made my way into the kitchen and saw Brian standing by the stove.

“There is no way I’m going to eat that.”

He turned around, obviously shocked, to face me.   
  
“Justin, please. Just eat something, anything. An apple, anything.”

I gave him a look that meant ‘you know what will happen if I eat’ and he added.

“And keep it down. Your body needs the nutrients. Please Justin.”

We watched each other for a minute or two, the only sound was our breathing.

“You can stay here, I will not kick you out, but I’m not going to eat.”

And with that I walked out of the apartment, leaving him before he had a chance to respond. I didn’t really care what he thought about it, either. The only opinion I valued was Ana’s, and of course Luke’s, at least until he’d turned his back on me and choose Brian’s side. But I kind of missed him, he had been my rock these past months, always being there, comforting, reassuring, motivating. And I didn’t understand how they could think that I was going to die if I kept doing this. I shook my head to clear it from thoughts.

 

**Brian POV**

When I heard the door slam close behind him I sunk to the floor, not caring about the tears that started streaming down my face. I wanted to scream, I wanted to punch and hit, destroy. I smashed my fist hard against the hardwood floor. A searing pain shot through my hand and up my arm and when I looked down on my hand I was a bit shocked. Just my luck it was the same hand I had smashed into the mirror the other day and now the stitches had gone up, crimson blood trickled down my hand and onto the floor. I couldn’t find the strength to care, the only thing that I could think about was Justin. Justin, my beautiful broken Justin.

I was in the same spot when Justin came back hours later. He only gave me an empty glance before he disappeared into the bedroom again. I sighed and rose from the floor. I took care of my hand, wiped the blood of the floor and threw the breakfast away before I sunk down on the sofa, trying to just breathe.

 

**Luke POV**

I pushed the razor down, quickly dragged across my wrist, adding to my already large collection of scars that marred my forearms. I hadn’t taken a razor to my wrist in 8 years, that had changed yesterday. I watched in fascination how the blood surfaced before I repeated the action, multiply times.

 _Fat._  
Worthless.  
Mistake.  
Meaningless.  
Ugly.  
Unloved.  
Nobody.  
Disgusting.  
It would have been better if I never was born.

And lastly, a deeper one.

_Helping Justin destroying himself._

When there were ten new cuts I watched the blood trickle down my arm I could feel my whole body relax. As I felt the blood leave my body old memories started coming back. Painful memories I rather forget that I had hidden in the back of my brain.

*~*

_The first time it happened it had been an accident. I had been cutting vegetables, slipped with the knife and made a cut in my palm. It hurt, it hurt so bad. But as the salad turned into a dark rusty color I felt how all pain, pent up anger and frustration left me. I had found an escape. After that day I had sliced my skin open almost every night, a few seconds of relief, a few seconds of being in control. That was all I carved._

_One month before I was going to turn 12 John walked in on me. I was sitting on the bed, watching with fascination how the blood left my body along with the pain. I still remembered the words he had yelled before leaving the room. Leaving me alone, with a new, stronger pain. And then the shallow cuts on my wrist wasn’t enough, I needed something more, something stronger. I had grabbed the razor again and cut deeper than I had ever done before. I wanted the pain to go away._

_Waking up in a cold, sterile hospital room was confusing and terrifying. No one was there and I freaked, had a panic attack and passed out. Next time I woke up there was a nurse looking at me with pity, and something that could be concern in her eyes. It only confused me more. I wanted my dad. I asked her to bring me my dad and after an hour John walked through the door. I have never hated myself that much before, as I did in that moment. My dad was dead, because of me._

_After a couple of weeks when I had physically recovered after my suicide-attempt my mom drove me to a child and teen psych ward and told me she would take me home when I was fixed. I cried myself to sleep that night, hating everything and everyone._

_I was 12 and he was 15 when we met. His name was Aiden and he was absolutely stunning. He was my first crush. We bonded the minute we saw each other. We kissed a couple of times and a week before he left he told me he loved me more than anything else in the world. I had cried myself to sleep in his arms that night. It was the first time someone had told me they loved me._

_I can still remember the phone-call as if it happened yesterday, not 8 years ago. His words were slurred and incoherent. The panic in his voice scared me to the core. I had been on a furlough when he called; it had been two weeks since he had left the psych ward and everything had been going good for him, at least that’s what he told me. He had told me he had taken pills, a lot of pills. He had told me he was scared, that he didn’t want to die. He had been begging me to save him, but all I could do was trying to calm him down. And it wasn’t working, it didn’t work. I still remember hearing the sound of the train, the sound of Aiden’s strained breathing. But the sound I remember the strongest is the one when the train collided with Aiden, the screeching of the train’s brakes. But it was too late; Aiden was dead, gone and not coming back._

_I didn’t go back to slicing myself open even if the carving for the pain was overwhelming, because I had promised Aiden I would never cut myself again.  A part of my brain told me that Aiden was dead, so it didn’t matter if I cut, and the other part told me that I would let him down if I cut, that it didn’t matter that he was gone, that the promise I had made was still valid, and you should never break a promise._

_When I was 14 I could stand the pain and confusion anymore and searched for another method of regaining control. That’s when I found starving and purging. When I was 17 I met a guy, Jordan. He was two years older than me and he told me he loved the second time we saw each other and I believed him. That should turn out to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever done in my life. I don’t know if he was blind, stupid or simply didn’t care, but he never, never said a word about my starving. Not a single word about the endless hours I spent on the treadmill, running until I collapsed, my body simply couldn’t take anymore. Not a single word about the purging up the nonexistent food. It wasn’t so much about getting rid of the food I hadn’t consumed; it was more about purging myself from the pain, confusion and all the bad memories. For five months I succeeded to hide my scars from him, even during the few times we had had sex. It had been my secret and I would have preferred it to stay that way, but no, you rarely get what you want. When he saw them… I still remember him looking at me with pure disgust in his eyes, words like freak, abomination, disgusting spilling from his lips. I have never felt more ashamed in my whole life. He left without a good bye, leaving me curled up and sobbing on the floor, and he never came back._

_*~*_

The blood had dried on my wrist, my fingers gently stroking over my sunken cheeks. It was first when I felt the wetness under my finger-tips that I became aware of that I was crying.

“I’m sorry, Aiden. I hope you still love me.”

 

**Brian POV**

As the days went past my worry grew. He wasn’t eating. He was barely drinking. He was lying on the couch because he didn’t have any energy to do anything else. I tried to get him to eat, getting the same answer every time, “No”. I couldn’t force him to eat, because then he would purge it and his throat couldn’t handle that.

On the fourth day I bought clear nutrition drinks from the pharmacy, determined to get some nutrient into Justin. This morning I had been woken up by him crying, no, sobbing. He wasn’t shedding any tears, his body too dehydrated to produce even the smallest amount of liquid. My heart had clenched in my chest and I had cradled him against me, getting a shock when I felt exactly how bad it was, how far I had let him take this disease. He was just skin and bones.

He did a feeble attempt of breaking out of my embrace, soon finding it pointless and nuzzled his face into my bare chest. His ice-cold fingers gripping at my biceps, tears forming in my eyes at how weak his body was. I held him closer, murmuring words of love, making promises I didn’t know if I could keep. But it didn’t matter at the moment, all that mattered now was being there for Justin, letting him cry himself back to sleep, just holding him, and comforting him when he needed it most.

**

It wasn’t the first time I had seen him pass out, but it was the first time it had happened while he was lying down, his head resting in my lap. I had been playing with the strands of his now dull and lifeless hair when his head suddenly lolled to the side. I panicked and tried to wake him. Couple of seconds later his eyelids fluttered open and he looked at me with tired eyes. It scared me, but it wasn’t the sunken cheeks or the far too prominent cheekbones, it was his eyes. There was no life in them. They used to be so full of joy and love and life. A burning desire to live and now that was gone. I closed my eyes for a brief second.

“I love you, Justin. Please don’t hate me for doing this.”

**

“What happens if you drop one drop of blue into a can of red paint?”

He just looked at me.

“Nothing happens. The color doesn’t change. Same with this. If you drink this nothing will happen, except for the fact that you live, and I want you to live.”

It was all quiet for a while, we just looked at each one other, listening to each other breathing.

“So please, please just drink this.”

I held the glass in front of him, waiting for him to take it. He didn’t. He didn’t make one single move to grab the glass. After a little while and he still hadn’t taken the glass I got up and got a spoon.

Sitting back down in front of the sofa and held up the spoon to his mouth.

“Please.”

He lifted himself up on his elbow and sipped the liquid of the spoon. I was about to present another spoonful to him when he turned his head.

“No more.” He croaked.   
“Please, just one more.”  
“N-no.”   
“Just one more, you can do it.”  
“N-n-o n-no, no m-more.”   
“We try with a little more in a while, okay?”

He turned around, his whole body facing the back of the sofa. It didn’t take long before the sound of soft snoring filled the room. I hoped he would be able to sleep through the night without waking up from nightmares.

 

**Justin POV**

Brian must have carried me to the bed after I fell asleep, because when I woke up I was tucked in my bed. It was dark, which meant it was in the middle of the night. I lifted my head slightly of the pillow and looked around, trying to locate Brian, just assuming he was beside me in bed. When I realized he wasn’t I started to freak out. I sat up in bed, slowly, to avoid getting light-headed. I looked around, squinting, my eyes still not used to the dark. There was something in the corner, a huddled figure.

“Brian?” I croaked my voice still rough with sleep.

When I didn’t get a response I slowly rose from the bed and tip-toed over to the figure.

“Brian?” I said again, not really expecting to get a response this time either.

I carefully put my hand on his shoulder. He flinched away, trying to make himself as small as possible. His whole frame shaking and it was first now that I was close to him that I heard the quiet sobs emitting from him along with small whimpers as if he was in pain.

“Brian? What’s wrong?”

He looked up, his eyes all red and swollen from crying.

“I c-can’t l-l-lose yo-u.” He hiccupped, burying his face in his hands again.   
“You won’t.” I reassured him, softly carding my fingers through his hair.  
“I-if yo-u k-keep doing th-this I w-w-will.”

That’s when it hit me like a freight train. I was going to die if I kept doing this. Maybe I was sick, maybe I did have a problem and I certainly didn’t want to feel like this anymore, but most of all he didn’t want to see Brian like this and knowing it was his fault. I could feel the tears threatening to fall down my cheeks and I didn’t even make the slightest attempt to stop them, I just buried my face against Brian’s shoulder and felt him put an arm around me.

“I want to go home.” I whispered so quiet I was not sure that Brian even heard me, but he held me closer never the less.

 

**Brian POV**

After Justin’s panic-attack when I was going to book flight-tickets back to Pittsburgh we rented a car. Justin had told me, when he finally had regained his breath, that it made him uneasy to be in a cramped space with a lot of people, and no way of getting out until we landed. I didn’t really understand at first, but then I saw the panic that shone in his eyes and without a second thought I canceled the booking and rented a car instead.

**

All packed and ready to leave, we were sitting in the car, in complete silence.

“I want to say good bye to Luke before we leave.” He whispered and hid his face in his hands.   
“Of course. Other than that, are you ready to leave? What about Ash?”  
“Just Luke.”

He said and slumped back into the seat.

 

**Justin POV**

Fifteen minutes later we were parked in front of Luke’s building. When I tried getting out of the car my knees buckled and I fell. I never hit the pavement though; strong arms caught me and held me close. I looked up at his face and regretted it in an instant. The anguish dancing in his eyes made me feel sick to my stomach, so I looked away and closed my eyes. Suddenly I felt myself getting lifted off the ground and out of surprise I reopened my eyes just to find out that I was now held tightly in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and lent my head against his shoulder, trying not to hear his gasp. He must have understood that I was too heavy, too fat for him to carry.

But he just tightened his grip and closed the car-door with his foot and walked towards the door. Shifting my whole weight, god he must be stronger than I thought, to only his left hip and opened the door. I buried my face in his shirt and inhaled his scent, feeling my whole body relaxing. He had always, well almost always, had that effect on me.

I must have spaced out because the next thing I know we’re in front of Luke’s door and Brian is knocking.

 

**Brian POV**

A few minutes later Luke opened the door. He was even thinner than last time, and judging by the dark, almost black circles under his eyes he hadn’t slept for a long time.

“Hi.”

He looked confused, I’m sure he didn’t expect to see me, or us.

“Hello, what are you doing here? Come to kick me while I’m down? Alright go ahead.”  
“I’m not here to kick you. We’re here because we’re going back to Pittsburgh and Justin wanted to say good bye. Are you going to be okay?”  
“I’ll be alright.”  
“You sur…”

I stopped mid-sentence when the angry red scars on his arms caught my attention. He must have seen that I had noticed.

“Oh, these, they’re nothing to worry about. I’ll just say good bye and be out of your life so I can’t cause anymore problem. You’ll be better off without me anyway.”  
“I may have agreed with you before, when we just had met and even though I still don’t like the way you helped him destroy himself, I can see that you regret it and if you want to you’re welcome to come with us to Pittsburgh. I have been in contact with a rehabilitation-center that specializing in eating disorders…”  
“I’m not suffering from an eating disorder; I’m suffering from myself, so I don’t see what difference it would make.”   
“Don’t say that, Luke.” Justin said. “And I would like for you to come to the Pitts and maybe even you know, get better.”

He didn’t really sound like he liked the idea of the rehabilitation-center and getting better.

“Have you cut again?” he said next.

Luke nodded and mumbled an apology.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to yourself.”

 

**Justin POV**

Back in the car I wanted to demand to know what Brian thought when he contacted the rehabilitation-center and made decisions for me over my head, but I didn’t have the strength and I simply slumped back into the seat and let the soft roar of the engine lull me to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are more than welcome, it keeps me inspired to continue writing. x


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